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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626906">Something Old, Something New</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvalidUser1D/pseuds/InvalidUser1D'>InvalidUser1D</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Battle Scars, Denial of Feelings, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hermione is confused, Jealousy, Lost Love, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Mostly Fluff, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley is So Done, Slow Burn, Smut, Weddings, after the war</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:07:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>158,958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvalidUser1D/pseuds/InvalidUser1D</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>6 Years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger is trying her best to manage (or rather-- suppress) her emotions from that night. As a result, she resigns from her job at the Ministry in order to take on a different career choice for her own personal well-being: Running the Wizarding World's first Wedding Planning business. She's somewhat successful, mostly garnering clients from being 1/3 of The Golden Trio, but when she's face-to-face with Draco Malfoy and his bride-to-be, Hermione learns there's truly more to the phrase "Something Old, Something New".</p><p>—<br/>Loosely based on The Wedding Planner</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello All! I hope you enjoy this wild ride I plan on taking you all on. Much Love -T<br/>------<br/>Hermione reflects on her current relationship, and is conflicted when presented with a new client</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>July 2004</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>A sickening feeling nestled deep within the young woman as she stared in sheer terror at the woman hovering above her. Long and curly dark tresses hung in front of the other’s face, with eyes hungry for bloodshed peering back at her. A wide, toothy grin grew on the woman, revealing decaying teeth as she lifted her wand. It landed on her scar in disgusting gentleness, as though to carve deeper into her flesh. A scream was desperate to lift from her lungs, though instead, all she found herself capable to do was attempt to force out words, eventually leading to gagging. Hermione’s eyes shot open, though not entirely registering her surroundings, as she held her aching stomach, swallowing all need to regurgitate the contents of her dream. It didn’t take the young woman long to realize she was shaking and drenched in sweat that had transferred to her satin bedsheets. But the most horrifying of it all was that she was alone in her bed.</p><p>Hermione cleared her throat of all mucus and distress and craned her neck in the direction of the bedroom door left ajar. From where she sat in her sea of covers, she could smell a pungent, and almost burning, aroma of fried ham coming from the kitchen. <em>Breakfast, already? What time is it?</em></p><p>Her attention quickly shifted to her alarm clock on her nightstand, to the time 8:25 AM flashing in red, nearly thirty minutes past her intended wake time. What was once fear and panic quickly turned into annoyance. She had overslept <em>again</em> and was silently cursing Ron for not waking her on time. Hermione shakily got out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cool tiles beneath her, and marched to the kitchen like a displeased mother ready to scold her child. Hermione adored her small apartment at first, but they had spent years here. She wanted something different for them, a change of scenery, and perhaps more, dare she imagine. First thing out of her bedroom, Crookshanks trotted down the hall to greet her with an affectionate rub at her ankles. To Hermione, the feline could sense that her energy were off. But instead of picking him up like she used to, she made her way into the kitchen area with him devoted and by her side.</p><p>In the kitchen, Ron was eating<em> and</em> cooking, reading over today’s issue of The Daily Prophet as he clearly ignored the stove behind him. His eyes trailed from the column about a new Quidditch win from Bulgaria and nestled on his girlfriend. A casual “Hey” sprang from him, searching her eyes for what it was that was bothering her, and began to stand up.</p><p>“You’re burning the ham.” Hermione bit, the smell only amplifying the nausea she had left over from her dream… no—her nightmare.</p><p>“Shit!”</p><p>She watched as Ron pushed himself up from his seat at their table, and ran to the stove, flipping the ham over to reveal what could’ve been charred had he left it in the pan any longer. He decorated a plate with the piece of meat, over easy eggs, and toast. Hopefully food would help dilute the sour mood she was brewing. He glanced over his shoulder at Hermione who was now seated at their table, and walked towards her coolly, as though nothing had happened. Ron placed the plate down in front of her, watching her intently for approval on his efforts, but when that fell short, he began to pry.  </p><p>“You feeling alright?” He asked, glancing down at the plate and back at her. “I can make another piece of ham.”</p><p>Hermione felt herself shifting, her scar burning at the remnants that lingered of her nightmare.</p><p>“Why didn’t you wake me when you saw that I overslept? I have a client today.” Hermione frowned.</p><p>“Yeah at ten o’clock. You told me,” He nodded. “It’s just…last night you were tossing and turning quite a bit. I didn’t feel right waking you.”</p><p>So, she had been dreaming horribly all night? No wonder she was exhausted. These dreams weren’t anything new to her, though. Unfortunately, she had gotten more familiar with them as the years had come and gone, but that didn’t mean she was over them. No, not in the slightest. Some dreams were worse than others, but in all of them, they involved her scar, the one thing she refused to acknowledge which was apart of her body. She hated the dastardly thing, and sometimes when her emotions towards it would continue to fester, it’s like Hermione was taken right back to the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, laying alone as she was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. A chill ran down Hermione’s spine at the thought of her name and turned back to Ron. Sometimes she felt like a burden to him. She felt like he would never understand what it was like to be the object of people’s affliction during that time period, to have been tortured by something she could not control, and then have to live everyday with the consequences like it was nothing. There had been countless times when Ron would wake her up from said nightmares, holding her as she sobbed. That was when the war was freshly conquered. Then, the more her subconscious would take over as the years progressed, the more Hermione felt as though she shouldn’t be crying over this any longer. So, she didn’t.</p><p>“Are the dreams coming back?”</p><p>
  <em>Coming back? They never left. </em>
</p><p>Though not in the mood to protest, Hermione simply nodded, and picked up her fork, gently stabbing the meat.</p><p>“I don’t think I’m going to eat, sorry,” Hermione frowned. “I appreciate it, but I’m feeling very nauseous.”</p><p>“Oh,” Ron blinked, looking around their flat as if searching for the proper way to ask his girlfriend this question. “You don’t think…”</p><p>“I’m not pregnant, Ron.” Hermione smiled lightly. “Just a little upset stomach, is all.” Watching him relax a bit, Hermione took a mental note of this. She and Ron knew they wanted children, but as a couple they never really extended beyond conversations depicting their short term life goals. In fact, Hermione noticed that their short term goals neglected to indicate anything serious about each other. This was definitely something that needed to be discussed.</p><p>“Then is it nerves?” he asked, getting up to stand behind her now, as he began small reassuring squeezes on her shoulders. Ron had noticed that Hermione, though brilliant, was more agitated coming home when she worked for the Ministry of Magic. He couldn’t tell if it were from the long hours she endured, the pain from the past, or a combination of both that set her on edge, but he knew that whatever it was wasn’t exactly helping her mental health. So, he offered she try and work for herself, and thus Hermione found herself in the world of wedding planning, much to his surprise. He always envisioned she’d own a quaint bookshop in Diagon Alley somewhere, or have her business <em>and</em> keep the Ministry as a part-time gig, but either way, he was proud of her, and believed in her visions.</p><p>“I guess I just got a little frazzled because I overslept.”</p><p>“You know that if anything else is going on, you can tell me. And I’ll help you out in any way that you may need.” Ron spoke. She knew Ron always would support her, but she also knew he was one to jump in and help her out, even when she didn’t ask, and sometimes that bothered her. His words made her tense, though she knew he didn’t mean it, and tried to divert the conversation away from work.</p><p>“I know, Ron.” Hermione smiled up at him. Ron bent down to plant a kiss on her forehead and smoothed some loose curls from her delicate face. “The food does look tasty, I think I’ll have a bit.”</p><p>“I love you.” He whispered, to which she responded, and watched as he walked to their fireplace. In a swift toss of Floo Powder, Ron was out of their flat and on his way to work, leaving Hermione alone.</p><p> </p><p>     ---</p><p> </p><p>Outside, there were children walking and playing around with each other, many of which were testing out new toys and tricks that they had picked up and gotten from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She was happy to see that George was still keeping up the place, even with his brother’s death. It gave her some sort of hope, as well, that her business wouldn’t falter. And so far, a year into it, it hadn’t. She had clients, many of whom were more awestruck that they actually had an appointment with a member of “The Golden Trio” and many of whom who found themselves asking more questions about <em>her,</em> than they did about her services. From her office window, Hermione watched the scene as George stepped outside, playfully threatening to hit the kids with a hex that didn’t exist, in an effort to shoo them off. Hermione watched as the children bolted down the street and grinned when she saw George look up from his point on the sidewalk, to see her. He gave a polite wave to the young woman and shrugged as though referencing the kids. Hermione thought it was great practice for him. He had already married Angelina Johnson, and was expecting his first child any day now. It seemed as though many people around her were moving on and forward from the events of the war. Hell, even Harry and Ginny were alluding to a potential proposal by asking very specific wedding details. It made her feel good that Harry, particularly, was embracing life so well in this way. She just hoped she would soon find when it would become her time to feel…alive.</p><p>From the next room over, Hermione heard the presence of someone coming in through Floo Network, and waltzed over graciously, but not before looking back at her desk to make sure she was all set up and ready. Testimonials? Check. Venue binder? Check. Past wedding photos? Double check. She allowed herself to breathe as she smoothed the invisible wrinkles from her blouse and watched as a statuesque woman stood in her decorated sitting area. Upon first sight, the woman smiled and rushed towards her in delight.</p><p>“Hello! Oh, how happy I am to finally be here!” The woman exclaimed, grabbing Hermione’s hands. She was very much charming with gorgeous features about her. Her hair was dark and fashioned into a professional bun at the back of her head, and as Hermione found it so gracious to hear of her client’s excitement, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was missing the other half of the couple.</p><p>“Thank you, Thank you,” Hermione nodded back. “And first thing’s first, congratulations.”</p><p>The woman grinned from ear-to-ear, looking down at the emerald colored jewel that sat on her delicate hands. Surely this woman had come from money or was certainly marrying into it, by not just the look of her engagement ring, but also her outfit.</p><p>“Thank you, Miss Grauche.” The woman nodded.</p><p>“Oh, it’s Granger,” Hermione corrected, seemingly creating slight confusion within the woman, though she continued to smile, but now straightening herself.</p><p>“Miss, Granger, right. My apologies.”</p><p>“Nothing to apologize for, Ms…” Hermione silently kicked herself for momentarily forgetting the name of her client, though she felt that the woman before her was too energetic to even take notice.</p><p>“Greengrass. Astoria Greengrass, for now, that is.” She grinned. Hermione paused for a moment. She had recognized that surname from her time at Hogwarts. Daphne Greengrass was a Slytherin girl that Hermione had a few classes with. She never did speak with her, as she never really spoke with any of the Slytherins, to be exact, but she had no clue that Daphne had a sister. To Hermione’s recollection, Daphne was a bit on the shorter side and blonde, though with the same pointed features as her younger sister. But still, both women oozed grace even in just existing, it seemed like. Hermione snapped herself out of her thought process and returned back to her professionalism.</p><p>“Well, we can sit down in the meantime as we wait for your fiancé to arrive.” Hermione suggested, ushering her to her office.</p><p>“Sure,” Astoria nodded. “He was fighting himself on what to wear. I told him to be presentable for today. We wanted to make sure you would be able to take clients such as ourselves.”</p><p>The two women sat in Hermione’s office with herself perched nicely at her desk and Astoria on the opposite side with an empty chair beside her.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“My fiancé is a very perplexing and complicated man. He’s had it hard growing up and he’s had it harder even now. The war was very…well, I’m sure you can remember.”</p><p>Hermione nodded at her speaking, though flinched lightly at her scar that began to burn slightly. She placed a subtle hand on her forearm and leaned on her desk, eager to try and hear more of her story, to distract her from the annoying tinge.</p><p>“I’m sure we all can.” Hermione nodded.</p><p>“Exactly. As it seems, society has been hard on plenty of us, but I feel it’s been hard on him the most. Such a cruel and unforgiving world we live in.”</p><p>Hermione didn’t know what else to say. It seemed as if Astoria didn’t know who she was, which felt odd to her. She wasn’t sure if she liked that or not—so many people would recognize her on the street or just in her day-to-day as Hermione Granger, and here was a woman who allegedly, had not a clue who she was or what she had endured, as well. It felt somewhat <em>comical</em> to go unnoticed, though she wondered how long this would last. Still, Hermione was sure the war took a toll on many people. So many loved ones lost, so many friends and family gone. The world was shifted since the defeat of Voldemort, but that didn’t mean all wounds were healed. Hermione watched as the woman’s eyes shifted around the room, as though tears were stinging them, and she pushed a box of tissues in her direction.</p><p>“I understand, trust me, I do.”</p><p>The woman dabbed some of her tears away, careful to not wipe her makeup off, and sniffled a bit, apologizing with a sympathetic smile before turning her attention to Hermione’s desk.</p><p>“May I?” Astoria asked, peering with focused curiosity at the decorated binder.</p><p>“Of course,” Hermione stood. “I’ll fix us some tea while we wait for your fiancé.”</p><p>Hermione excused herself from her office and made her way to the small kitchen, waving her wand as she set two cups to brew. From where she stood, she heard plenty of ‘ooh’s’ and ‘aah’s’ from Astoria as she examined Hermione’s past work.</p><p>“Miss Granger I absolutely love what you’ve done here with the gold and white venue! And the floating, lighted rose petals, how romantic!”</p><p>From the kitchen area, all Hermione could do was smile to herself. To be applauded for her efforts was something she was rather used to, but she still enjoyed and appreciated it nonetheless.</p><p>“Have you two picked out a color scheme for your day?”</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Astoria called. “I haven’t a creative bone in my body, and my soon-to-be father-in-law is paying for it all so we thought we’d do him the favor and have it at his home.”</p><p>“How sweet of you,” Hermione called out with a grin, waving her wand to pour the tea into the cups. “Where will the venue be?”</p><p>Hermione listened diligently, though could hear nothing but silence where she had expected Astoria to talk. From behind her, she could hear footsteps approaching, and turned around to see Astoria in the doorframe. On her face bore a look of guilt and complete apprehension, leading Hermione to wonder exactly why she refrained from telling her. And then, like something within the woman had possessed her to speak, Astoria spat out, “Malfoy Manor.”</p><p>Hermione nearly sank into herself at the revelation, not fully piecing this together. Why was the wedding to be done there? Nothing was adding up. Nothing was making sense, until it did. Hermione’s eyes darted to the green jewel sitting pretty on Astoria’s finger, the constant talk about her fiancé being a victim, and her potentially being a Slytherin. Before she could ask the name of her beau, the sound of another person entering the Floo Network in the sitting room came through, and Astoria’s once guilty face lit up.</p><p>“That’s him!” She bit her lip eagerly, rushing towards her groom-to-be. Hermione stopped pouring the tea out of fear she’d burn herself from the shock that was just thrown at her, and placed a shaky hand on the counter for leverage as she braced herself for the unimaginable.</p><p>The sound of Astoria’s heels hitting the hardwood floor grew nearer and nearer before the couple stood before her, Astoria wearing excitement on her face, and her platinum blonde fiancé standing beside her, equally as shocked and unnerved at the presence of a familiar face.</p><p>“Miss Granger, perhaps you've met my fiancé, Draco Malfoy?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Questions arise about the fate of Hermione's relationship with Ron, as she begins to make a decision about her latest clients</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The woman in front of her was chatting away quickly, though not a word was being absorbed by the shocked brunette. She seemed reverent in her attempts to keep Hermione neutral to the situation, but too much was hitting her all at once. She didn’t even have time to properly comprehend what was happening. In her office was a woman eager to have her plan their wedding, and beside her sat this…unfamiliar man that she had known for nearly all of her life. She didn’t even register him being in her office. Frankly, she was surprised that Malfoy hadn’t grabbed Astoria at the sight of her, and apparated out of her office in a heartbeat. But no, he was sitting there, his silence speaking louder than his fiancée, as neither of them tried to look at the other. In fact, Hermione came in and out of awareness as Astoria jumped from apologizing on her fiancé’s behalf for being a former Death Eater to her “complete and total understanding” of what they’ve done to the Wizarding World and how <em>Draco </em>isn’t that person anymore. He may not have been that person to Astoria, of course, but Hermione hadn’t seen this man in person in years. To her, he was still <em>Malfoy.</em> He looked slightly aged, though his features were of course still unbecoming of him, dark and cunning. If he had any redeeming qualities about himself, Hermione wasn’t accustomed to them, and still struggled with wondering if he even deserved her forgiveness, though he probably didn’t need it. This was a man who was moving forward with his life. Evidently the events that had occurred right in his home <em>that night</em> didn’t torment him as they did Hermione. Yet she had to live with a nasty scar as a permanent reminder of what <em>his</em> aunt did in <em>his</em> home while <em>he</em> didn’t stop her. Hermione snapped out of her trance and watched as Astoria straightened herself, visibly embarrassed that she had gone on for so long while her fiancé sat in compliance. She stole a quick glance at Malfoy, watching him peeling his eyes away from an object on her desk to look at her, but before their eyes met, Hermione focused on Astoria.</p><p>“Considering the error in name, I’m sure neither of you thought you would be meeting with me.” Astoria shook her head slightly and grabbed Malfoy’s hand in hers. God, it was so odd seeing any sort of affection come from him, even if he were closed off and deeply uncomfortable in her presence. Hermione supposed she never considered Malfoy to be the marrying type. Sure, his family was all about status, but to her, she never thought it would be such a grand affair and more of a quick and brief agreement of some sort—to proceed with giving the Malfoy name. Still, the fact that he was in her presence, after so many years, rattled Hermione a bit.</p><p>“That’s my fault,” Astoria interjected. “I saw your ad in the Prophet after I had set my cup of tea on it. I managed to see the name of your business, but <em>your</em> name got smudged a bit.”</p><p>Hermione shrugged lightly and struggled to find the correct words. Part of her felt bad for what she would eventually have to get at and looked at Astoria intently.</p><p>“That’s not the issue,” Hermione spoke up. “<em>Who</em> I am is the issue.”</p><p>“Listen, when you corrected me with your name, I knew exactly who you were, but that didn’t matter to me, and I’m sure that doesn’t matter to Draco anymore, does it darling?”</p><p>Hermione saw Malfoy shrug his shoulders as he shifted in his seat a bit, obviously unimpressed at being dragged into the conversation. But the only one who bore true emotion, it seemed, was Hermione whose hands were folded together a little too tightly. The way Astoria talked made it seem as if she were the one who wore the dark mark on her arm, as if she were the creator of this chaos. Still, Hermione had never turned down a wedding in her past twelve months of business. If she wanted to keep her business, she couldn’t.</p><p>“I…it’s not just that,” Hermione swallowed a bit, unsure of where to take this without causing much fuss. “There’s so much I--”</p><p>“Why do I feel like you’re falling into prejudicial tendencies that you of all people should know is wrong? Draco is a changed man and—”</p><p>“Astoria.” Malfoy quickly reprimanded, glaring at her from his seat.</p><p>That same unnerving feeling returned in the pit of Hermione’s stomach as she looked at the couple. She didn’t know how to tell Astoria ‘no’. She had started to think of how generously Malfoy would pay her for her services, but conjured up the cons of having to deal with referring Malfoy for dress robe alterations, and having to decorate a manor that held so many deep and cruel pieces of her past. From her seat at her desk, she watched as Malfoy turned his attention away from his fiancée while Astoria sat with hopeful and apologetic eyes. Before her, she saw a bride eager to have a grand event to celebrate her love after society had looked down upon them for Malfoy’s involvement. This is why Hermione started this business— to get a taste of life and see it twinkle in the eyes of others as she helped them achieve perfection. And then next to her was this dull, gray reminder of a life she had hoped to forget. Conflicted, Hermione regained composure and forced herself to look at both parties in her office.</p><p>“Give me some time, and I’ll give you an answer.”</p><p>Astoria smiled lightly and stood up, extending her hand to Hermione for what she considered a truce, as Malfoy simply stood up and let himself blend into the background.</p><p>“Perfect. Thank you,” Astoria nodded. “It’s a December wedding, by the way.”</p><p>Hermione glanced at her calendar and forced herself not to grimace. If she were to give them an honest answer, it would have to be sometime within the next few days. The couple walked ahead of her and back into the sitting room. Malfoy stepped into the fireplace first, and then followed Astoria. Hermione watched as the woman glanced anxiously from her to her fiancé as he grabbed some Floo powder, and called out in the midst of their travel,</p><p>“And we’ll have about 200 gu—”</p><p>Hermione stood in the sitting room, watching as the powder simmered in the air for a moment and then cleared away just as quick as it had come, and plopped down in one of the seats near the fireplace.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>Dinners at Harry’s were always Hermione’s favorite nights. She loved being surrounded by friendly and familiar company, especially when staying at home with Ron sometimes meant dinner in silence as they ate, both too tired to come up with anything beyond casual work conversations, or mostly hearing Ron discuss his events at the Ministry. Hermione hated to admit that she missed her old job from time to time, often finding herself wondering if her colleagues located all their proper documents alright, and genuinely if they were doing okay without her. But those thoughts ebbed and flowed out of the transom of her mind every now and then, nothing too major to make her painfully nostalgic of her time. But, if there’s one thing Hermione enjoyed most about eating with friends, it was how light and open they could all be with one another.</p><p>Hermione had found herself so caught up in her grateful thoughts that she hadn’t realized she was zoning out of their pleasant conversations.</p><p>“I have no clue why he’s having the hardest time finding a baby name. I mean, honestly, if it’s a boy, obviously name him Fred, duh. And if it’s a girl, then she has to be named Rosemary.” Ginny spoke as she twirled some spaghetti on her fork.</p><p>“She <em>has</em> to be?” Ron asked with a coy smile, forever admiring his sister’s bossiness.</p><p>“Yes,” Ginny groaned. “Because our daughter will be named Lily.”</p><p>Hermione and Ron watched as Ginny playfully winked towards Harry, turning her boyfriend’s cheeks red from her announcement.</p><p>“Wait, are you guys pregnant?” Ron asked, bouncing from a shocked expression to one of total glee.</p><p>“No!” Ginny yelled. “I’m just saying! Goodness me!”</p><p>Hermione cleared her throat momentarily to lean in across the dinner table to speak.</p><p>“Lately, Ron thinks everyone is pregnant. It’s the strangest thing.”</p><p>“Looks like you’ve been his first victim?” Harry asked with a sheepish grin.</p><p>“Just making sure everything works on my end,” Ron started, then flashing a toothy smile as he leaned towards Harry, garnering a snicker from his old pal.</p><p>“Gross, I’m eating.” Ginny groaned, pointing to her nearly empty plate.</p><p>“Eat faster.” Ron whispered as he teased his younger sibling.</p><p>The conversation shifted to work, of course, and Hermione figured this was just the adult norm. Working, talking about working, it all fell short in the end. It’s not like either of them would change their careers if given the chance to but complaining felt a little mundane to her.</p><p>“What about you ‘Mione?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Hermione looked up as she finished her sip of wine.</p><p>“Any…oh what do you call them again?” Ginny grinned as she nudged her friend.</p><p>“Oh, Bridezillas? No, I’ve hardly gotten those honestly, but then again I haven’t been in business long,” Hermione trailed off. “I did have an odd encounter with an old classmate of ours who came for my services.”</p><p>The whole table perked up as it soon became a guessing game of who was getting married in their year, and though Ginny didn’t know too many of their classmates, she did manage to shout out a few names here and there, just for the fun of it.</p><p>“It has to be Neville and Luna.” Ron spoke confidently.</p><p>“Neville and Luna,” Hermione questioned. “Were they dating?”</p><p>“In Ron’s head they were.” Harry rolled his eyes.</p><p>“It’s a good match…” Ron trailed off as he slumped defeatedly in his seat.</p><p>Hermione eyed them all carefully, pleased to be the one to deliver the gossip to her friends, despite not finding his appearance in her office as pleasant earlier on. Though, she had to admit that it was unusually comical to have this information.</p><p>“Malfoy.”</p><p>“Malfoy?!” Ginny asked, an amused look on her face at the thought.</p><p>“You’re kidding.” Ron grinned, impressed and just as curious as well. “I didn’t think anyone would look at him and think ‘yes, partner material’.”</p><p>“Well you know what they say,” Ginny started. “There’s a ferret out there for everyone.”</p><p>Ron and Ginny erupted into laughter, though Hermione kept a small smile on her face, noticing something off with Harry. He was engaged slightly in the banter at first, then thought about something that rendered him speechless about Hermione’s occurrence.</p><p>“Harry?” Hermione eyed him carefully.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked, placing a hand on his arm.</p><p>“I uh, I met with Malfoy sometime a year ago or so. Maybe even two,” He started, trickles of guilt in his voice as he spoke.</p><p>“You didn’t tell us?” Ron asked, perplexed that it hadn’t been something Harry brought up.</p><p>“You didn’t tell <em>me</em>?” Ginny asked, a look of hurt on her face. Harry reached over to grab her hand in reassurance, stroking it with his thumb. Hermione always admired how gentle he was with her, even though Ginny certainly “wore the pants” in their relationship.</p><p>“He had sent me an owl asking to talk. Of course I came with all my defenses up, but he had apologized to me. Took everything in him to do so, but he did it. It was brief, and odd, but I heard him out. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you all to be upset.”</p><p>“What, so you and him mates, now?” A tinge of jealousy in Ron’s voice.</p><p>“Absolutely not,” Harry shook his head. “I just feel like this war has put everyone through so much. It just seems like he really wanted to apologize.”</p><p>“Or to clear his conscious.” Ron stifled.</p><p>“He seemed genuine.”</p><p>“I’m just saying, he has the dark mark on his arm to prove that he was once in allegiance with our enemy. It’s hard for me to trust the likes of him, that’s all I’m saying.”</p><p>“Sometimes people change.” Harry shrugged.</p><p>“Well he didn’t apologize to me,” Hermione spoke softly. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”</p><p>To be fair, Hermione knew she wasn’t set on searching his face for answers about their last encounter either, but she knew that if he wanted to apologize, he would have. And once again, his dark mark was intentional; her scar was not. It wasn’t until months after the war that Ron convinced Hermione to stop wearing long sleeves in the summertime, for fear of getting heat exhaustion. But still, everyday she woke up with this constant reminder on her body, the same way Malfoy probably did, but in different context.</p><p>There was a growing silence over the table during dinnertime then, and she realized she probably shouldn’t have mentioned his presence. Bringing him up usually brought up the war, which made them all think about their own personal battles, too. If Hermione ever needed a way to dismiss the liveliness of a room, she now knew how.</p><p>“Did you take him as your client?” Ginny asked.</p><p>Hermione looked around the table, searching for what answer felt right in that moment. With all eyes watching her, the corners of her mouth curled up and she rolled her eyes as if to allude to the obvious.</p><p>“Of course I didn’t.” She half lied. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she would say to the couple. The more she thought of it, the more she found herself pulled towards a no, and then equally so, pulled towards a yes.</p><p>“Good.” Ron nodded, turning back to his food. It seemed as though the heaviness in the air had lightened between all of them. No more questions, no more curiosities about her appointment with him. Nothing at all, but the last burning question that Hermione found that she even asked herself.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Everyone looked up at both her and Ron, also waiting for an answer to her question, to which Ron merely responded,</p><p>“Because I just can’t believe that someone as hateful as him could actually change.”</p><p>For some reason, Hermione couldn’t fully believe that.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>From their living room, Hermione watched as a half-asleep Ron trotted from their bathroom and into the space where she sat by candlelight. In front of her was a piece of parchment, blank and untouched, with her quill in hand. She watched him calmly, remembering her need to talk about their intended future together, if any, and realized how dreadfully exhausted he looked as he stood before her. Hermione watched her sleepy boyfriend, hair frazzled and laying about. She always figured she would be awake planning her own wedding with Ron, but after years of being together, six years to be exact, still nothing. Hermione tried her best not to let this get to her, but she knew they desperately needed to talk about them. Sure, Ron loved her and all, but what did he expect out of this? Though, seeing him in this state made her realize that she needed to ask him this question when he weren't slipping in and out of sleep. So, she put the conversation off, just like she had done many times before.</p><p>“You coming to bed anytime soon?”</p><p>“I’ll only be a moment.” Hermione assured him, waving him off gently to go without her, and he did so without much of a protest.</p><p>Hermione turned back to her parchment and stared at the blank space, as though it somehow had contents to be read, and tapped her quill anxiously. She hadn’t had an event to plan in about two months, and it bothered to keep stagnant. Inside, she wondered if she were ready to go back to the Ministry, though her most recent nightmare still screamed at her as clear as Ron’s statement about Malfoy did. Then Astoria came into full circle, and she wondered if she were taking out her prejudices on Malfoy for the things he’s done when he was still a minor, finding a place in the world like she was. So, Hermione picked up her quill and began to write.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ms. Astoria Greengrass and Mr. Draco Malfoy,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am pleased to announce that I’ve decided to </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Accept you as my clients. Though December is five months away,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I look forward to helping assist in making your dreams come true. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please let me know an appropriate time to meet</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To begin the preparations. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione J. Granger</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione helps Draco plan his wedding in Astoria's absence and another couple gets engaged.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The room felt so cluttered and disorganized with the way articles of clothing were tossed about so easily—Clothes he didn’t even know his fiancée even had, but clearly did. Every ounce of him secretly detested the idea that Astoria had chosen to go away so abruptly, especially without him to accompany her. Her reasoning? He had to stay close to home in case Granger needed anything and had any questions for them. As if he had all those answers. They already attended one session together where they discussed “Save The Dates” and what type of food they’d have at the reception. Wasn’t that enough? Draco tried not to reflect on the first time he had seen the witch since her body lay in pain at his childhood home, but he couldn’t stop. Some way, somehow, he had pushed the horrid memories of that day out of his head for all those years and bottled them up. Her shrill screams as she cried out for help, her legs trembling against the tiles. And all he did was stand there and watch, thanking his father silently for letting him retreat to his bedroom when he realized his son had witnessed enough. Draco never told anyone, but he had vomited up every last bit of himself into his toilet that day. There was so much going on that fueled his sickness, the murder of one of his Hogwarts professors, the innocent killing of a family with a Muggle-born mother. It was all too much for him to bear, and he knew he hadn’t even seen half of the damage that was caused by the organization he was once shamefully apart of. As he aged, he figured he’d never had to come face-to-face with those thoughts, always assuming he would possibly run into The Golden Trio by chance, but never willingly done by his fiancé, and so soon. But he had recalled seeing Potter and his redheaded girlfriend inside of a coffee shop a few Winters ago, and was stunned when realizing Potter had noticed him. He felt consumed in his thoughts then, and got the courage to apologize to him days after. Now, he was front and center in the most deplorable ways with Granger. It was only a matter of time before she would guilt him into apologizing, as well. Still, those thoughts could wait. As he sat on his bed, he watched Astoria rummage in her closet, then wave her wand to relocate her clothing into a much smaller bag that contained more than it let on. He would miss her, and her pristine fashion and for always helping him pick out the “most dashing” outfits for social gatherings, but without her here, there wouldn’t be many “social” gatherings to attend, he figured.</p><p>“When will you come back?” he asked, trying his best to sound firm during his endearment, despite already knowing her answer.</p><p>Astoria chuckled to herself, giving him a meaningful gaze as she grinned to herself.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a week, or so. My sister wants to celebrate the engagement in Paris. You can always Floo to us if you want if the distance is just too much to bear.”</p><p>Draco smirked to himself, his eyes catching a glimpse of her ring finger, his heart still skipping a beat at the sight. Sometimes Draco couldn’t believe he actually proposed. He had worked up the courage for what seemed like a while now, and always remembered his father telling him “when you know, you know”. Truthfully, it was probably the only good piece of advice he had received from his father, though he knew he strayed far from emotion and mostly dwelled on what was good for the cause, or in the name of family. And so, he found her one night, primping in her vanity as she did routinely before bed, and asked her <em>“Do you want to marry me?”</em> He remembered Astoria turning around to face him, some sort of night cream dabbed on her face, and grew nervous once she giggled to herself. <em>“Draco, everyone knows that if you are to propose to a witch, you must have a ring.” </em>Draco knew that Astoria was gorgeous, and witty, and just <em>fit </em>in all the right places. At family functions hosted by his mother, she would light up the room with her fashion choices and hold a conversation with someone about nearly any topic, even if she didn’t know a single thing they were talking about. Draco admired that about her, he really did. But from years of tip-toeing and hanging on the edge of tradition, he wondered if stepping out of what was expected of him would best suit him somehow. Yet that thought didn’t stop him from proposing again, <em>and</em> with a ring.</p><p>“And please, darling,” Astoria started. “Don’t forget to do a bit of wedding planning. We don’t have much time.”</p><p>Draco groaned at the thought and laid back on the bed. If he had it his way, they would get married here and now, right in the center of their bedroom, away from judging faces and guests who were not yet married that would eventually try to one-up them in the years to come. It felt more like a circus than an event to cherish. He was simply not a fan.</p><p>“And do what exactly? Talk about silverware and color schemes with Granger?”</p><p>“<em>Hermione</em>,” Astoria started. “Does fantastic work and will make our event quite the spectacle.”</p><p>“Does it have to be?” Draco mumbled under his breath, though paused once he felt Astoria laying on the bed beside him.</p><p>“Yes, because I love you and you love me, and it’s only right that we celebrate it in this manner. And our wedding is in five months.”</p><p>Draco wasn’t necessarily sure that he agreed with that incentive, but knew that if it made Astoria happy, he would follow through with it no matter the reason. Though at the same time, he hated that about himself. He felt as if Astoria had an emotional pull on him, and not always the good kind, but damned himself even further for not prying himself from this grip before it began to affect him. He shook his head quickly, ridding himself of those thoughts and turning to look at Astoria.</p><p>“I’ll miss you.” He spoke, honestly oozing from his lips like sweet honey.</p><p>“As will I.” She smiled, planting a quick kiss on his nose before resuming her packing. Draco, instead, chose to continue laying there, dreading every minute that he knew would eventually have to come out of him planning his wedding with Granger.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                                                                        ---</p><p> </p><p>Appearing in the sitting room of Granger’s office space, Draco briefly dusted himself off and felt a lump form in his throat. He had forgotten to send an owl prior to his arrival, alerting the witch that he would be attending the following sessions on his own, and cursed himself silently for the wave of embarrassment this would soon cause him. Still, he aimed to not let it show. Before announcing himself, he took a step out of the sitting area, seeing moving photographs of people dancing at their own wedding, photographs of venues and food options, and even one of Granger who was seated on this very floor, painting what appeared to be a sign for possibly another wedding she had coordinated. For a moment, he wondered who was behind the camera, and automatically knew it to be Weasley. Jeez, she was so predictable, but the one thing that wasn’t predictable to him was her resignation. Granger hadn’t noticed, but he actually caught a glimpse of her on her last day as the majority of her department gave her a humble good-bye full of well wishes and the like. He hadn’t known then that she was gone for good, until now of course.</p><p>Behind him he could hear footsteps approaching the sitting room and paused when seeing Granger standing there. She was dressed up, even more-so than she was when she met with Astoria and himself the first time around. Her hair was in loose curls, and she word a light pink dress with a cropped blazer on top. Oddly professional, yes. Was it a style he was accustomed to seeing since being with his fiancée? Absolutely not.</p><p>Draco took a quick moment to notice the sleeves of her blazer were cropped, revealing the start of the scar that his aunt gave her six years ago. At that very moment, Draco thought he would vomit, replaying her screams over and over as he tried to look anywhere but at her arm. He silently wished she would cover it up, for his sake, at least. It just felt as though she were parading it around, like it’s a badge of wizarding honor. It made him feel sick.</p><p>“Oh, good, we’ll get started when Astoria comes.” Hermione spoke, barely keeping eye contact with him before turning to head back into her office. Draco shoved his hands in his pants pocket and slowly trailed in after her.</p><p>“She’s not coming,” He spoke lowly. Hermione whipped around, her curls flowing with her as she bore a look of surprise. Her face asked so many questions even before her mouth could catch up, so he did her a favor and answered them. “She’s on holiday with her sister in Paris to celebrate the engagement.”</p><p>Draco watched Granger struggle to find the words, eventually settling for a polite smile. In turn, he grimaced. Why did she have to be the goody-goody all the time? Did she not show anything beyond a smile?</p><p>“We could have rescheduled. It’s quite alright.”</p><p>“Astoria didn’t want me to miss anything important so…here I am.” He spoke, not waiting for her invitation to sit down, as he helped himself to the seat regardless. Draco smirked, seeing her clearly bothered by his willingness to get things done on his own, and followed her with his eyes as she sat at her desk.</p><p>“Right, well,” She started, tucking some hair behind her ears. “Considering your wedding is in five months, we’ll have to move a little faster than most couples who usually wait about a year after to get married.”</p><p>“You mean Muggle couples?”</p><p>Granger narrowed her eyes at him slightly, clearly missing the joke—if there was one—and ignored his statement. Slowly but surely the remnants of the Granger he had grown up and known was coming out, and it almost made him feel less uncomfortable in this situation.</p><p>“Like I said, we have a lot to do. I gave Astoria some research about a possible theme for the wedding.”</p><p>“A theme?” Draco rolled his eyes. More and more of this was starting to feel like a circus to him, rather than an event like Astoria had promised.</p><p>“Yeah, sometimes people have themes or color combinations to make the venue look pleasant. They’re very debonair.”</p><p>“How would you pick a…<em>theme</em>?” Draco asked, clearly unamused with where this was going. He was paying for someone to pick into his imagination. Merlin, wait until Astoria got a load of this.</p><p>“Well, it can be something you both like. Like if you both enjoyed Potions, I can try to make a potion-themed wedding.” Draco blinked at her and thought for a moment. If this were the way Muggles did their wedding, then he wasn’t fond of it at all, and he wanted no parts. Granger could keep the security deposit. All he wanted was his time back, and his freedom. He wasn’t getting the picture, evidently.</p><p>“I guess…Slytherin?” Draco shrugged. The office got quiet as he saw Granger, who was once so serious and business-oriented, try and force the corner of her lips to refrain from forming a smile. He watched her closely, having never witnessed her smile up-close. To be honest, it alarmed him. He thought that now, at all times, with the effects of the war and all that she endured, she had finally done it. She had gone mad. A small snicker came from her as she tried to stifle the rest.</p><p>“Sorry,” She spoke, clearing her throat of any future-dated giggles soon to come.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” Draco spat, looking her over.</p><p>“It’s just…it’s just such a Slytherin thing to say. Two Slytherins marrying each other, and they want a Slytherin wedding?”</p><p>“Do you laugh at all your clients?” Draco sneered, though it was no use. The young witch had let a few more laughs out before calming herself and turning back to her notes.</p><p>“Just the ones that I find funny,”</p><p>A brief silence fell over the two as he tried, to no avail, to conjure another potential theme for the wedding.</p><p>“What exactly would your theme be, then?” He asked.</p><p>“Oh, that doesn’t matter.” She huffed, waving her hand as though to shoo away the question. In that moment, Draco noticed a ringless left hand, and soon it did matter. How could it be that someone so in tune with the essence of love and weddings have no wedding of her own? Maybe she was a better planner than she was a partner. “Let’s do something easy, then.”</p><p>“Like?”</p><p>“Like, picking out Astoria’s favorite flower. They can be used as centerpieces, or for her bouquet.”</p><p>Draco sat for a moment, hoping that the answer would come to him, but it did not. He looked up to see Granger, staring at him in what he could only decipher was shock.</p><p>“What?” His tone annoyed and irritable.</p><p>“Do you not know her favorite flower,” Hermione asked. The silence that Draco shamelessly responded with was all that the witch needed. “Awful.”</p><p>“It’s possible I’ve forgotten it.” He shrugged.</p><p>“Or that you’ve never bought her flowers.”</p><p>“Not every witch expects or wants flowers,” Draco spat, squaring himself in his seat. “I don’t need you judging me.”</p><p>“I’m not judging,” Hermione spoke, though Draco thought he could almost sense a bit of it plastered on her face. “Let’s see then…”</p><p>Hermione fumbled through some papers on her desk, whispering to herself inaudibly as Draco shifted once more in his seat, visibly uncomfortable by the beautiful yet tight cushions of her guests seats.</p><p>“You know, you should probably change these.”</p><p>Hermione looked up, clearly confused by his sudden suggestion.</p><p>“Change what?”</p><p>“These seats. They’re awful.” Draco bit, crossing his arms in front of his chest, finally trying to cherish a position that he finally found solace in.</p><p>“They aren’t.” Hermione shook his head, continuing her search.</p><p>“Have you sat in one of these?”</p><p>With a frustrated sigh, Hermione looked up from her work, and for the first time, finally in the eyes of the man she hadn’t seen in years with emotion other than the ones she was filling into this grand wedding of his.</p><p>“No, I haven’t, but I can guarantee it’s not as bad as you say they are,” She started. “You had a reputation for complaining back in Hogwarts.”</p><p>Draco stayed quiet, his eyes once again darting to her forearm, which was now being covered slightly by her blazer. He was silently grateful he couldn’t see it in this moment, and still, he looked back up at her with a grimace. He wanted to shake her up a bit, tell her that they were two different people from when they were in Hogwarts, that people can grow and evolve into different, better versions of themselves. Not everyone was forced to be stuck in the shadows of their past. But before he could announce himself, Hermione started back up.</p><p>“Ah, okay, here we go. Do you have a best man and does Astoria have a Maid of Honor?”</p><p>Draco let out an exhausted sigh, glaring at the witch before him.</p><p>“No, and no.”</p><p>Hermione bewitched her quill and pad, having it write for her as she began probing for more wedding details.</p><p>“Okay, and have you got fitted for dress robes, yet?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“And Astoria? Has she found a gown?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>These questions were so devoid of all the magic that Astoria had assured him that would come out of hiring her. He was never interested in a large wedding! But he’s expected to go along and make these plans if he had a single interest in it. Though he loved that he and Astoria took turns balancing out their relationship by equally taking charge when needed, it was different whenever she had a grip on him. There were few discussions, and few compromises.</p><p>Hermione looked up at him, seeing the bored expression on his face. He didn’t want to be looked at by her anymore, so he turned his head away from her slowly, facing the direction of her halls. In that moment, Draco’s attention came back into focus when her quill and pad hit her desk with a thud.</p><p>He could see frustration on her, but again chose not to look at her any longer.</p><p>“What exactly have you two done since getting engaged? I mean, honestly, you come here and ask me for help, but have nothing to give me in return. How am I supposed to help you if neither of you know what you want?”</p><p>Draco knew the question was in reference to the wedding, but he found himself ready to protest outwardly that he knew exactly what he wanted <em>out of life.</em> This surprised him a bit. He had never found the need to defend himself or his position before. Perhaps, deep down, he was unsure of what he truly wanted, though as quick as that thought came, it left him, and he thanked himself for that. Though, instead of responding in the sneer that he originally wanted, he got to his feet and shrugged.</p><p>“Is there anything else you need from me?” he asked with an undertone of sarcasm.</p><p>“No, we’ve gotten so much work done. Thank you for your time.” Hermione returned the banter, though rolling her eyes as he walked out of her office, disapparating.</p><p> </p><p>                                                                                    ---</p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Being at the Burrow, and around family that she had come to love so dearly excited her greatly. Having been an only child, she loved the idea of her solitude, but enjoyed the comfort of a large family all the better. Somehow, she felt more seen with the Weasley’s especially since she no longer could connect with her family in the way she originally intended. Perhaps it was her ego playing a huge role in it all, but she felt that if her own magic weren’t strong enough to bring her family back to her, then nothing would. And besides, part of her felt guilty at the idea of obliviating their memories of new lives that they had found comfort in, all to bring their true memories back. But who was she to determine which memories were valid or which ones weren’t? Still, like the Battle of Hogwarts, she hadn’t necessarily gotten over not having her parents around her anymore. It was a different type of unfathomable loss that she had to get by. But for now, she pushed all pain to the side to enjoy Harry’s birthday. Among them were Bill and Fleur, their daughter Victoire just as pretty and bright, seated calmly by her mother, George and a heavily pregnant Angelina, Molly and Arthur. Though in the sea of people, Hermione found herself near her usual crowd, huddled up with Ginny as they talked amongst themselves.</p><p>“What did you end up getting Harry for his birthday?” Hermione grinned, nudging her best girl friend.</p><p>“I mean, I got him some fancy suits and robes for work. He said he didn’t want anything from me this year. I don’t know what his problem was.”</p><p>“Well you know Harry,” Hermione started. “Quite the humble bloke.”</p><p>“Bloke for sure.” Ginny grinned, causing the two girls to laugh amongst themselves.</p><p>Conversations stirred on and soon Ron was by Hermione’s side, holding her a little closer than she had expected him to this night. And soon, Hermione realized that mostly everyone had seemed to swarm around them. Hermione’s hands began to shake as she looked at Ron, who had this handsome, dreamy stare as he gazed back at her.</p><p>“Ron?” She asked, trying to force away her smile though without much luck.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Ginny asked, looking at the crowd and then to Ron and Hermione. “Where’s Harry?”</p><p>Soon, Harry was standing on a stool in the middle of their sitting room, clinking his glass proudly, garnering everyone’s attention.</p><p>“I’d like to thank you all for coming to celebrate me, today. I’m proud to have you all as such devoted friends <em>and family</em>,” Harry started. Hermione could feel Ron’s grip around her tighten subtly, and she couldn’t fight the butterflies that were begging for release in her stomach. “I’m so thankful to have such great best friends such as my mates Ron and Hermione, who show everyday that they are their own family as they continue to care for each other profoundly.”</p><p>Hermione struggled to calm her shaky breath. Perhaps this was their moment. Perhaps she wouldn’t even need to ask Ron about the future of their relationship. They were together, and they just knew each other—without even speaking. This was something she wanted for so long. Years, even! And now, it was finally happening, right here, right now.</p><p>“And then there’s my best friend, Ginny,” Harry continued. Hermione snapped out of her early onset euphoria, and turned to face Ginny, who was just as red and nervous as Hermione was seconds ago. Still, Hermione remained smiling, as she knew what was to come, especially with Ron’s continuous squeezes here and there  to anticipate her if she hadn’t already guessed where this was going. Everyone watched in obedient silence as Harry stepped off from the stool, making steady strides towards Ginny. Harry bent down on one knee and grabbed Ginny’s hand, a few ecstatic squeals coming from the crowd around them.</p><p>“You’ve been my best friend, my biggest supporter yet, and overall the light in my life that I’ve been searching for, though I didn’t have to search far. I love you eternally,” Harry spoke, choking up in certain parts of his words. Hermione couldn’t help but let a few tears flow as well, knowing how deeply Harry and Ginny both loved one another, and could’ve even sworn she heard Ron sniffle a bit, too. Harry momentarily let go of her hand to reach in his inner jacket pocket, revealing a small, black suede box, to which he opened, revealing a sparkly diamond ring. It was breathtaking. “Ginny Weasley, will you give me the greatest birthday gift yet, and do me the honor of becoming my wife?”</p><p>It wasn’t long before Ginny screamed out “Yes!” before nearly attacking Harry with a giant hug and sobs, though she hadn’t even placed the ring on her own finger yet. Her attack, though, did cause Harry to fall over, the ring popping from the small box.</p><p>“The ring! The ring!” Molly called out, as most of the guests, including Ron, swarmed around the couple, trying to help find the sparkly diamond amongst the carpeted floor. This went on for longer than expected before a small child’s voice could be heard among the scrambling.</p><p>“I got it!” Victoire screamed happily, holding it up in the air like she had found gold. Through the crowd, Hermione watched as Ginny and Harry lay on the carpet, laughing about the whole ordeal as the rock glistened on her hand. To Ginny, the ring was beautiful, but if she had to marry Harry without it, she would do so wholeheartedly, and the whole room knew this. They were perfect for each other, and anyone could see that.</p><p>Hermione stood off to the side, still near the party, though trying to hide away as a mixture of tears and laughter came over her in the oddest way. What a beautiful sight to see people in love. She basked in this for a moment before jumping slightly at the feeling of a heavy hand on her shoulder. She glance, seeing Arthur now standing beside her, proudly watching his family. He looked down at the witch and with a grin in her direction, uttered the words that would send Hermione spiraling,</p><p>“Soon it’ll be your turn.” Arthur nodded towards Ron, before walking into the crowd and offering his daughter and future son-in-law a hand. Hermione watched as Ron stood up, smoothing away his clothes and flashing a knowing smile towards her. She had gotten so caught up in the joy of celebrating Harry and Ginny that she hadn’t thoroughly processed what she was feeling before. And yet, what crept into her mind wasn’t doubt. No, certainly not that. But rather, a wonder for what lied beyond for her and Ron, if there were anything at all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-- I've honestly had so much fun with this chapter in particular. Is it odd that I felt bad for Hermione while writing this final scene? Let me know how you guys liked this  one--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ron and Hermione discuss the future of their relationship, and Draco gets an unexpected visitor while shopping in Diagon Alley.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt good to be back at home after such an eventful day. Hermione adored how late the Weasley’s carried their parties on, a gesture that wasn’t so loved by her when she had started working at the Ministry. Hermione was mostly a homebody, and spent her time with those who she cherished the most, but when working at her former job, she found herself exhausted and incapable of doing much, being that she had to get up for work so early. Often, she and Ron would find themselves apparating back home as early as 9 PM, quite earlier than tonight’s 1AM flat arrival. She needed a break, a time to unwind and relax herself to get her mind off of her fairly difficult client. As she and Ron both entered the bedroom, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Arthur’s sentiments after Harry and Ginny’s engagement. <em>“Soon it’ll be your turn.”</em> Would it, though? Nowadays, Hermione wasn’t so sure. It hadn’t dawned on her that she had begun to zone out, unintentionally ignoring Ron’s declaration of happiness for his best mate and his sister as she began to overthink. Apparently Harry had let Ron in on the surprise weeks in advance. So why hadn’t either of them told her about these plans? Lately, it was hard for Hermione to not feel left out, even within her own home.</p><p>“’Mione,” Ron asked, immediately getting her attention as a sneaky Crookshanks hopped onto the bed, nestling right in between the couples’ pillows. “Did you hear?”</p><p>“Sorry, what?” Hermione asked, feeling slightly guilty that she hadn’t been listening.</p><p>“I said that I helped pick out the ring for him. Apparently, I have good taste, according to Ginny.”</p><p>Hermione couldn’t help but feel as though Ginny was indirectly helping Ron nudge in her direction, as well, but felt a bit embarrassed at the possibility. The duo climbed into bed at the same time, with Hermione ready to pet her feline friend as she mulled over the decisions she had to make, though Ron interjected her thoughts and gently lifted Crookshanks off the bed.</p><p>“Not tonight, pal.” Ron snickered, then allowing him to gently take place on the floor directly after. Without another word of tonight’s events, Ron uttered a charm and soon the lights were off in their flat. In the dark, Hermione sat up, staring at what once were a perfectly clear vision of her hands, and took notice of Ron nestling comfortably under the covers. She knew that if she kept stalling, things would never get solved, and as much as she cared deeply for Ron, she didn’t want to last another minute not knowing where things stood with them.</p><p>It only took a few seconds for Hermione to gather the courage to call out to him, knowing he hadn’t drifted off just yet.</p><p>“Ron?” Her voice was low and calm.</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“What exactly are we doing?”</p><p>Hermione waited momentarily for a response before feeling Ron’s smile through his words.</p><p>“We’re going to bed…?” The end of his sentence trailing off as if he was unsure what the right answer was.</p><p>Hermione uttered another charm, the lights now on in their bedroom as she looked down at Ron.</p><p>“No, what are we doing?”</p><p>Ron sighed for a moment and sat up, a clammy hand grabbing hers softly in his own.</p><p>“I think I need you to rephrase a bit.”</p><p>Hermione grimaced at him, though knowing that Ron often let quite a bit fly over his head, but this? This was something she had hoped wouldn’t be one of those things. This was hard enough already, and to have him now dragging it on longer than it needed to be was not helping her confidence in this situation.</p><p>“I want to know if you see yourself marrying me one day.”</p><p>The air in the room became thick as the couple stared at each other. Ron, still not answering, was searching her eyes for something, though she wondered what it was. She instantly regretted even bringing it up, but knew that if they kept dancing around possibilities and ‘seeing how things go’, that they would be stuck here, in this flat, while their friends moved on and started their own lives. To Hermione, time was running out.</p><p>“Is this because of the engagement?” Ron asked, still not answering her question.</p><p>Hermione scoffed a bit, now insulted by his assumptions, but would never reveal that he was partially right. This was only <em>partly</em> because of the engagement, but it was more than that. It was knowing how it felt to have Lavender Brown look at him the way she did, though he hadn’t noticed, and it was the kiss they shared as they had defeated one of the Horcruxes together. It was much more than the jealousy that he thought it was. And the more she pondered, she knew how silly she felt for thinking that Ron would’ve gotten the courage to propose to her, tonight, even if in that moment she thought that he would. But now in the space where silliness once lied, was an upset Hermione, sitting in a large bed with a man who she thought she knew. She got to her feet from the bed and walked over to the window, Crookshanks meowing gently from the corner of the room, his soft fur relaxing her a bit as she gathered her thoughts.</p><p>“I can’t believe you would think that I would only contemplate our future together because Ginny and Harry got engaged.”</p><p>“I’m not saying that. I’m just asking where this is coming from. I mean, did you plan on having this conversation beforehand?”</p><p>Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring out into the dark, empty streets. There wasn’t a single person outside. Perhaps everyone was inside, with the people they loved, not worried about the fate of their relationships. To that thought as it seemed, Hermione <em>was</em> jealous of something.</p><p>“Yes, I actually have been,” Hermione started, which gained a confused and off-guard look from Ron. “Tonight, after the engagement, your father came over to me, and he just looked so…happy. And he placed a hand on my shoulder and said that it would be us next.”</p><p>“Oh, you know dad’s just talking.”</p><p>Hermione flinched at his words. Ron wasn’t giving her a direct answer, but everything that came out of his mouth showed where he stood, and where he saw himself when it came to the bright witch. She hadn’t even realized she was crying until she turned around to face Ron, hot tears burning her cheeks and fell even more as she looked at him.</p><p>Ron, taking notice of how upset she was, stood up, making his way over to her, which caused Hermione to take a step backwards.</p><p>“You don’t understand.” Hermione forced out shakily.</p><p>“Then help me to!”</p><p>“You haven’t considered a future for us? Do you not see your siblings getting married and having kids and think that you want that same life? That maybe you would want that with <em>me</em>,” All Ron did was stare back at her, not daring to open his mouth for fear of a brewing shouting match. “I see you as my family, Ron. And I think I would want that with you.”</p><p>Ron took a seat on the edge of their bed, and took a deep, shaky breath which was never a good sign to Hermione. This meant he was thinking intently, and possibly about something quite difficult for him to convey. Hermione watched him from her standing position near the window and braced herself for the response she didn’t want to hear, but knew she needed to hear.</p><p>“I just…I feel like right now, with where I am in my work and all, I can’t exactly say what it is that I want. I don’t know. I just…I know I love you, ‘Mione. But I just don’t know. I don’t even know if I want kids, or how many, or if I would want them to be like me or their mum. It’s all things I haven’t considered yet. And you’re so brilliant, but I’m just comfortable with where we are. You, me and Crooks.”</p><p>The tears, now in full force, were creating a blurred vision for Hermione, almost as blurred as the lines of their relationship, if they were even still in one at this point. She understood that sometimes couples had differing opinions, like a decision to not buy terribly ugly furniture, or differing opinions on Quidditch teams, but certainly not differing opinions about the future of their relationship. Most of the time, those ended with a break-up.</p><p>“So, you like the idea of the three of us. You, me and Crooks,” Hermione repeated in between soft sobs.</p><p>“Yes,” Ron smiled gently, nodding at her from the bed.</p><p>“Just not forever, then.”</p><p>“Hermione, I didn’t say I didn’t like the idea of it forever.” Ron stood up in defense.</p><p>“But you didn’t say that you did.”</p><p>The two stood and stared at each other for what felt like ages. There was so much said with the looks they bore, and yet nothing else would come from ether of their mouths. Hermione, taking that as the biggest sign of all, forced herself out of near petrification and went to pick up Crookshanks.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Ron asked, watching her head towards the bedroom door, now.</p><p>Hermione, tired and exhausted from crying and arguing, peered over her shoulder ever so slightly, and answered him,</p><p>“The guest bedroom.”</p><p> </p><p>                                                                        ---</p><p>August 2004</p><p> </p><p>If it’s one thing Hermione maintained from her talks with her mother and father, it was how much they stressed companionship. She would always hear from them how love wasn’t enough to keep a marriage or any form of relationship together if one or neither parties willed themselves capable of doing so. It was moments like this were Hermione wished drastically how she could talk to her mother, hear her voice and touch her. Feel her. Hear her words of wisdom while indirectly speaking of specifics in order to save Ron from judgment on their end, though she knew they would have never been able to. Her parents were both fans of Ron and his parents, too. Hermione supposed that’s what drew them so close together. She can remember one day before Hogwarts as they readied themselves to enter Flourish and Blotts for school books, and how her parents were just as curious about what exactly Transfiguration was and “how to use it”. On top of that, she remembered Ron pointing out how he overheard his father asking her dad what exactly a dentist did, and how he deemed it quite unnecessary. Seeing the two worlds collide so gracefully was fun for both children. But now, more than ever, Hermione needed advice from someone who wasn’t from the wizarding world.</p><p>Days like today, when she would especially miss her mother, she would go out for walks alone, and Ron would understand. However, being that they had just had quite the heated argument the night prior, Hermione knew Ron was even more careful, now about having her gone without having either of them apologize or come to some sort of resolution to their fight. Still, Hermione knew she also needed some well-needed space to clear her head and rid herself of any bad feelings. She hated going to bed upset with Ron, for fear of losing him during the night after a fight. It was an irrational ‘fear’ that stuck in the back of her mind, but last night, she made it clear that she didn’t want to talk any further. Perhaps she was being too cold, but Hermione felt she had good enough reason. So, she left for a little while, and found herself in Diagon Alley.</p><p>Hermione popped into one of her favorite little cafes, the closest thing that looked somewhat Muggle-like to her and ordered her favorite cup of tea. As she waited, her gaze shifted to the sun shining outside of the small shop and took notice of the tall blonde man walking down the street.</p><p>Malfoy.</p><p>He was alone and walking, or rather drifting through Diagon Alley as a few passerbys stopped and regarded his presence. Maybe what Astoria said was true. Perhaps the world did see Malfoy and the rest of the few living Death Eaters as cautionary tales to young witches and wizards alike, to not stir along the path of dark arts, for the fear of ostracization. Still, even with their opinions of him, it wouldn’t shake the fact that he still reigned from one of the most prominent and well-known Pureblood family names. One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.</p><p>It wasn’t long after she received her tea that Hermione decided to follow him along the cobblestone. To passerbys and onlookers, it was an absolute sight. Just feet ahead of Hermione was an infamous person known for the war, and behind him was one of the most powerful witches that helped stop it. Hermione chuckled to herself, seeing the looks on many of their faces. If only could she could hear what they were thinking.</p><p>Hermione watched from her distance as Malfoy stopped into a small store, known for its trinkets, valuable tokens, and oddities. Who knew Malfoy was a collector, if that.</p><p>From the outside window, she watched as Malfoy, the only customer inside, quickly scanned the cluttered tables for a good find, and smirked at his lack of patience as he moved to another. How could he scan an entire table of desirables in merely three seconds, and expect to find anything good? It had always been known to Hermione that Malfoy were the type to “fake it ‘til he made it”, putting on a front to those around him that he knew what he was doing, when in actuality he probably did not. For some reason though, she found that intriguing about him, and then quickly caught herself.</p><p>Malfoy? Intriguing? Blah…</p><p>Hermione pushed her way into the store, startling the shopkeeper as the bell on his door rang. He greeted her with a polite nod, and instantly turned his intense glare back to Malfoy. At the time, Hermione didn’t think much of it. Hell, he was probably judging Malfoy’s sleek, expensive-looking attire, and was wondering why he was in here, just like Hermione was. But, she simply brushed it off as wondering if he would make a good sale, today. Then, as she took a few steps towards the focused man, she watched as he looked up, suddenly annoyed by her unwanted presence.</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione nodded in his direction, trying to maintain her level of professionalism in public, while also treading on sarcasm.</p><p>“Pretty sure stalking is illegal both in the Muggle world and ours, Granger.”</p><p>“It seems that I’ve forgotten that the world revolves around you and only you,” Hermione rolled her eyes, ready to bite back with sarcasm. “Everything makes sense again.”</p><p> “Come to berate me for not having my color scheme in order? Or maybe you’ll try to hex me for not knowing my flowers.”</p><p>“I think Astoria and I could both agree that hexing for not knowing her favorite flower would be appropriate,” Hermione spoke, but then grew curious as Malfoy ignored her remarks to continue his search. “What are you looking for?”</p><p>“Does it matter?” Malfoy spat, turning away from that table and going to another. With his back turned, Hermione got the chance to finally take a good look around the shop. Mostly everything looked worn and vintage, not necessarily his nor Astoria’s taste, if you considered their style choices. There were small teacups on a top shelf, other obscure items like old hats from what looked like the 1920s, and even old books, some of which were in different languages. But Malfoy was peered on the jewelry table, full of gems and crystals alike; an enchanted sight, for sure.</p><p>“Yes, because you look like you need help.”</p><p>“I don’t need help. I’m just looking,” Malfoy corrected.</p><p>“Looking for what?”</p><p>“Merlin, you’re full of questions, aren’t you!?”</p><p>Hermione smirked to herself and explored the store, leaving him to search on his own, though hearing defeated sighs coming from the man behind her.</p><p>“Astoria wants a gift to wear at the wedding. It’s tradition apparently.”</p><p>Hermione perked up, turning around to face him.</p><p>“Oh, I know! Muggles do it all the time. We call it good luck for the bride on the day of the wedding. It goes, ‘Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue.’”</p><p>Malfoy blinked at the witch and shrugged a shoulder.</p><p>“Anyway, Astoria only wanted something old, I guess, but I’m not finding anything.”</p><p>“Well, that’s because you’re looking at items that are ancient, not old.” Hermione mumbled to where only they could hear. For a moment, just in his direction, Hermione thought she heard a snicker come from Malfoy, though when she turned to see if her joke had landed on him, he had already made himself blank as the search continued.</p><p>“Bloody hell, there’s nothing worth buying here.” Malfoy sneered.</p><p>“Then get the hell out.” The shopkeeper spoke, his eyes focused on Malfoy.</p><p>Hermione paused, a bit taken back by the sudden outburst, and watched the two wizards anxiously.</p><p>“What did you say?”</p><p>The shopkeeper motioned to the sign on his door that showed a hooded Death Eater, with the words plastered right above his head “NO FORMER DEATH EATERS ALLOWED.”</p><p>Hermione sucked in a quick breath at the sign and turned to face Malfoy, who was reaching in his inner jacket pocket for his wand, and quickly came to his side.</p><p>“Let’s go,” She spoke firmly, standing beside the tense wizard as his eyes fixated on the shopkeeper. He was big and burly, his wand in hand as he spoke to Malfoy. But Malfoy refused to listen. He stepped a bit closer to the wizard, their wands now drawn against each other, to Hermione’s rising horror. “Malfoy!”</p><p>Hermione reappeared at his side, this time grabbing him by the arm as she headed towards the door, completely ignoring Malfoy as he ripped the signage from the store.</p><p>The shopkeeper followed the two of them out, calling behind them as they walked.</p><p>“He’s damaged my property! You’ll have to pay for that, you know!”</p><p>“A piece of paper? Honestly?” Hermione shouted back, ushering Malfoy from the shop and to a vacant store just across the way. The shopkeeper begrudgingly walked back into his shop, slamming the door behind him with a hard slam.</p><p>Hermione studied Malfoy as he stood against the store, tucking his wand back into his inner pocket and shifting around restlessly.</p><p>“You alright?” She asked, tucking some hair behind her ear.</p><p>“I’m fine,” He spat, turning away from her and starting up the street.</p><p>“Why do I feel like you’re upset with <em>me</em>?” Hermione asked, trailing behind him, confused but still concerned.</p><p>“Because you shouldn’t have dragged me out of there like a child. I’m an adult. I can handle myself.”</p><p>Hermione quickly moved around the man, standing in front of him to stop him from walking any further. He was too fast for her, considering his legs were longer than her own.</p><p>“You call cursing a man a proper way to handle yourself when there wasn’t imminent danger thrown at you,” Hermione spoke. “One wrong move from you, Malfoy, and the Ministry will have your head on a pike, willingly. Imagine telling <em>that</em> to Astoria.”</p><p>Hermione watched Malfoy’s eyes meet her own, and she couldn’t help but feel remorseful for what he had endured from the shopkeeper. His eyes, so grey and pretty in color, were so sad, way before the incident had even occurred. Hermione could’ve chalked it up to just not having Astoria around and the distance being so great even after such a recent engagement, but no, there was more lurking inside of him. More that Hermione wanted to know.</p><p>“Why do you even care?” he asked, his face reddening, possibly from embarrassment.</p><p>“Really? As if I hadn’t been in <em>your</em> expensive, leather shoes before,” Hermione spoke rather harshly. She was trying to make a point, alluding to the times he’s singled her out when they were younger for being Muggle-born. She watched as his expression remained unchanged, still showing that he was carrying this weight on his shoulders, and decided to lighten the mood a bit. “And you’re paying me.”</p><p>Malfoy looked up at her, nearly shocked by her response, but relaxed once he saw a small, playful smile on the witch’s face. Hermione noticed this and for a moment, felt something unexplainable. Never had she ever thought she’d be having a conversation with Malfoy in Diagon Alley, searching his eyes for this unexplainable feeling. It was like…calmness? Maybe something more? Like, solidarity even. Though, upon noticing that she and Malfoy were nearly toe-to-toe, staring at each other, she cleared her throat and repositioned herself to stand at his side, continuing walking down the way.</p><p>“Uh,” Hermione spoke, redirecting the conversation. “Anything new?”</p><p>“I mean, there is something. We’ve got the guest list in order.” Hermione knew that meant that<em> he</em> actually got the list in order, considering Astoria had still been on holiday with Daphne. “It’s gone up to 220, now.”</p><p>Hermione sensed the dread in his voice at the new guest list and smirked a bit.</p><p>“So then maybe you should opt for a different venue.”</p><p>“Well, my mother and father got married at…<em>there</em>, so I guess they want to keep the tradition.”</p><p>Hermione knew the Malfoy name still meant something to his family, though she couldn’t help but wonder if it actually meant this much to the Malfoy walking beside her, and just even hearing the implication of the manor made her scar shoot an annoying itch towards its location.</p><p>“Do you know if there’s much space for a tent?” Hermione asked softly, not trying to recollect her memories of the manor. The last time she was there was awful, a memory she would never forget. But even as much of an impact it had on her, psychologically, she couldn’t remember anything else from the Manor grounds, just the darkness that drew nearer as she lay on the drawing room floor.</p><p>“Mother and father aren’t usually home on Sundays if you want to…” Hermione shifted her gaze to him, wondering if he would even dare to invite her to his former home after everything that she had endured, and watched him scramble for anything to latch onto to save himself from this situation. “How about I make a prototype of the manor, and we can plan it like that?”</p><p>Hermione thought for a moment, a bit suspicious at how genius the idea was, and nodded in compliance. She wanted to thank him, for not coercing her to reentering his house. She wanted to thank him for the polite suggestion, one of the first honorable things that he’s done for her in the short amount of time that she’s spent with him thus far, but all that could come out of her mouth was a simple, modest question.</p><p>“When can I see you again,” After the outpouring of words, she caught herself, especially when seeing Malfoy blink in surprise. “For the prototype, that is.”</p><p>“Jeez Granger, I’ll have to take my time to get it just right, you know.”</p><p>“Time is of the essence, Malfoy. And we’ll have a lot of work to do to seat 220 guests.” Hermione nodded as she began to walk in a new, and opposite direction away from him.</p><p>“Then I’ll be sure to bring biscuits next time.” He called out in dry sarcasm, causing an equally dry, ‘Ha Ha’ to be Hermione’s response.</p><p>Hermione was not exactly sure what it was that had left her feeling so strangely after her time with Malfoy. It could have been a number of things, really. Perhaps it was how she felt sorry for him as she noticed the way the rest of the world looked at him as though he were despicable, or maybe the way he had one redeeming quality about himself to not easily have her trotting back into Malfoy Manor so soon. Regardless of what it was, even down to their last departing banter, Hermione wondered in silent guilt if she had actually begun to form an alliance with Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--OKay so finally we got some less tense Dramione interactions going on! I know it's going a bit slow, but I promise there's a method to my madness. Enjoy all!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco becomes stressed from the wedding planning, Hermione's unsure of her relationship with Ron, and Astoria has some reservations.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It was quite a difficult possibility to process when Draco had realized how lonely he truly was. In Astoria’s absence, he would find himself going to unknown and peculiar places  for food, and spending little time home. He had convinced himself that taking walks and going out into the town, being around other witches and wizards, would be good for him. To be amongst people, and hear other voices besides his own, even if they weren’t actually talking to him. Then at night, he would find himself at home, in the dark, alone. He had people he considered his friends, of course. There was Blaise and Pansy, the two that had found an on again off again love within each other, somehow. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them, but the idea of two opposite people getting together was one that just didn’t sit well with him. Pansy was fiery and verbal about most things. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, no matter if he words might’ve crossed you the wrong way, and Blaise? Well, he couldn’t really recall Blaise opening up about much, and showing much emotion about anything. Simply, the two were opposites. It was like…him and Granger going steady. It just wouldn’t work, though the only thing he could fathom as to why it wouldn’t, lied only within their differing blood even if they were civil as of right now.  Still, he admired the fact that she, of all people, had come to his defense that day in Diagon Alley. He understood partly why she did it. He just hadn’t known that Granger would do so, and so willingly. Draco knew he had been a prick to her at Hogwarts, and was less than thrilled to know Astoria still wanted her as their planner after he explained their complex history. But to have her defend him, it took a different type of feeling out of him. Despite their rift. Though more than anything, he was shaken a bit at how forward and continuous the disrespect was towards him. Did people not understand that he was forced to do that? To become a Death Eater. As in, it wasn’t in his control. But having Astoria with him did bring some of that control back within him. She had seen him at his worse, through the turmoil of returning to Hogwarts after the Battle, and too felt the sting of social shunning because of his past. It wasn’t enough for him to say “thank you” to her. But God did he miss her.</p><p>Walking into his flat, Draco noticed the Owl perched outside his living room window, pecking continuously at the glass to be let inside. Upon further recognition, he knew the owl to be Astoria’s, and quickly let the bird in with a flick of his wand. Draco plopped himself onto his couch, and sighed, watching the owl drop multiple items in his lap. The first was what seemed to be a copy of The Daily Prophet, printed just yesterday. He had forgotten to pick up that day’s copy while out, much like he did on most days, and was grateful to have Astoria know him so well. The other, which was a wrapped parchment letter with a light pink string around it, was of course from Astoria, herself.</p><p>Draco pushed the newspaper aside and quickly opened the letter and smirked at Astoria’s perfect handwriting. It just seemed like everything about her was perfect, and while he didn’t fret about it outwardly, Daco often found himself wondering how that could be so, but then turned his attention to the letter:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My Sweet, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Daphne and I are well. We’ve toured most of the French Pyrenees.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’ve even gotten a look at Beauxbaton’s Academy of Magic and</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Made some pretty and posh friends along the way.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Maybe we’ll consider inviting them, as well? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It would bump the guest list to 225. I hope that’s quite alright.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I must say that I do miss you terribly,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But this much needed holiday just before my wedding</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is serving me well. I hope you are well,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And planning gracefully with Miss Granger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ve sent a copy of The Daily Prophet</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In hopes that its contents will excite you as much as</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It has excited me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We’re in the paper!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I cannot wait to marry you, Draco Malfoy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yours, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Astoria Greengrass</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco hitched a quick breath and dropped the letter from his hands. He desperately grabbed for the paper, and flipped through it, passing by other written nonsense and settled onto page 7. There, at the bottom of the page next to a small advertisement that Hogwarts was looking for a new Potions professor, was a small article announcing his marriage to Astoria. The column showed a picture of the two of them, taken just on year ago when they had first started dating, smiling as they helped his mother tend to her garden. The header? “<strong>A Wedding of The Ages”. </strong>There were talks of a harpist, silly events at play such as fortune telling, and even a small note about the long, painstaking, and “handsomely expensive” planning process, though they hadn’t mentioned Granger’s name.</p><p><em>Good,</em> Draco thought. He didn’t want too many people knowing his business, even though he secretly knew who the culprit of the wedding announcement could’ve possibly been. Astoria, much like her mother and sister, were all very forward in what it is that they wanted. They adored the finer things and loved many momentary things of value. And announcing the giving away of Astoria to a Malfoy felt more like a business deal than it did something of their own choice as adults.</p><p>The owl beside Draco squawked at him, somewhat rushing his response to return to Astoria. Everything began to hit him at once, and the more Draco thought of the advertisement in the paper, to Astoria calling it <em>her </em>wedding, along with the growing guest list, and the complete circus that this God awful wedding was becoming, the angrier he became. Draco summoned his quill and parchment, and began to write, or rather scribble away, at the material he had.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Astoria,</em>
</p><p><em>I appreciate the efforts going into </em>our<em> wedding, </em></p><p>
  <em>But must we do it like this? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t want it to be this way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Can we just make it simpler? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Merlin’s beard, why does it have to be so fucking chaotic?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco caught himself before he filled the rest of the page up with his venting and stared at the words before him. The owl next to him squawked once more, reminding Draco about his response, though all he did was lift the paper in front of him, rereading what he had wrote. It truly shocked him at how much this wedding was irritating him, and knew that at this moment in time, he couldn’t respond to Astoria. Not when he was so emotional like this. Instead, Draco sent the owl away, and in the quietness of his flat, as the sun set just outside his window, he ripped the paper to shreds in an animalistic fashion.</p><p> </p><p>                                                                        ---</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The days after their fight, Ron had been more attentive to Hermione. Though the status of their relationship was still up in the air, Hermione had began to rethink everything that she said to him that night. Maybe she was being too overbearing with what she wanted. Maybe she should’ve been more complacent. Though she knew she had a strong opinion about wanting to discuss their future before it’s too late, she knew that ultimately, something would have to be done about them. She didn’t want to have to push someone into making a decision about her, nor did she plan on doing so. To Hermione, having no opinion was enough for her. But despite it all, she appreciated Ron for trying. Even if they were in a weird space, he still cared for her, as she did for him. Having a renewed sense of normalcy was comforting for her, so it was no surprise that the sight she had first saw when walking out of the bedroom that morning, was Ron, with breakfast that wasn’t burnt this time around, reading today’s issue of The Daily Prophet.</p><p>“Good morning,” Ron grinned, looking at his sleepy girlfriend.</p><p>“Morning,” Hermione spoke in a sing-song sort of voice, walking to land a quick kiss on his front temple, and stealing a piece of bacon from his plate, moving coolly to their couch in the living room. “Anything good in the papers?”</p><p>“Not a word, but did you see the Prophet from the other day?”</p><p>Hermione watched as Crookshanks came to her feet, meowing and pressing against her legs in typical Crooks fashion, before she turned full attention to Ron, curious at his find.</p><p>“No, what?”</p><p>“Turns out the Malfoy event will be the wedding of the ages.” Ron spoke, fixing his voice in a dreamlike state to make it sound fancier and more attractive than the paper convinced all its readers that it was.</p><p>Hermione swallowed hard, clearing her throat as the hard meat nearly choked her from her surprise.</p><p>“No way,” She began pondering if any crucial information was shared about Malfoy, or Astoria, or even herself. “What did it say?”</p><p>“Apparently there will be a harpist, the finest foods, and a hundred or so guests.”</p><p>Hermione shook her head slowly. Malfoy hadn’t mentioned a single thing about a harpist, and she wondered, almost aloud, if they had made any additions that she wasn’t yet aware of. But the one thing the article certainly got incorrect were the guests. <em>Ha,</em> Hermione had waking nightmares about a wedding with so many people. “It’s actually two hundred and twenty.”</p><p>Then, just after finishing, Hermione’s heart dropped. She could feel herself become warm at the exposure and waited anxiously for a response from Ron. She had hoped her correction had gone unnoticed, but the more he didn’t speak, the more nervous she became. Hermione turned around to take a look at Ron, who was steady drinking from his cup of orange juice. When he finished gulps with a satisfied “Ahh”, he shook his head at her.</p><p>“I know right. It’s probably even more than that. Blood snobs. They think that they need to showcase how much they love each other with a huge event with the finest things, spending all that money for one day? Imbeciles.”</p><p>Hermione exhaled, allowing herself to fall into relaxation as he fell into her unintended sarcasm, and walked from the kitchen to the living room, cuddling up with her on the couch. Hermione didn’t necessarily feel good about keeping this such a big secret from Ron, but she knew he would’ve fought her on taking Malfoy as her client, and above all else? The money would be nice for a new flat if they decided on that, or even maybe an expansion of her business, or who knows? Maybe even for a small holiday? There were so many possibilities but above all else, this was her livelihood, and she enjoyed it. And who could’ve guessed she had begun to find entertainment in being called to help plan Malfoy’s wedding? Hermione knew that one day she would have to tell Ron, but she knew that right now, on this comfortable couch as she laid with both Ron and Crookshanks wasn’t the appropriate time.</p><p>“Would’ve been quite the laugh to see you plan that.” Ron nudged, though all Hermione could do in that moment was smile.</p><p> </p><p>                                                                        ---</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes loneliness called Draco to some of the best places. He had uncovered hidden gems that he was sure the average, everyday witch or wizard would possibly look over, like the small speakeasy hidden in between an alleyway near the darker parts of Diagon Alley, and even a bookshop that hands you at least two books per aisle that were picked intuitively by Seers that owned the shop. He hadn’t frequented it yet, but knew that if he ever needed it, it was there. But then, as he woke up that morning, sitting and trying to figure out what he could send back to Astoria to not cross her and make her worry, he found himself apparating right to his childhood home. He was keen on seeing familiar faces that weren’t so tied to wedding planning, having felt that time had gone by too easily where he hadn’t heard their voices.</p><p>Draco walked towards the back of the house, past a courtyard, and saw his mother in the distance, gardening. Her favorite, and only, past time. He wore a grin on his face, happy to see her in her element, but also remembering the words she told him once before when he had appeared at their doorsteps with a frown<em>. “You’ll catch a sour stomach from such a sour face.”</em> Since then, he knew that the least he could do when he saw his mother was smile, though he didn’t have to force it with her. As Draco grew near, he watched Narcissa perk up with a smile, as she began patting her dirt ridden gloves “clean”.</p><p>“Hello, my darling!” She spoke, pulling her son into a tight embrace full of loving squeezes and sighs.</p><p>“How are you, mum?” He asked, stepping away to study the witch.</p><p>“Fine, good, better now that you’re here,” She smiled. Narcissa looked down at herself and shook her head. “Excuse my appearance.”</p><p>“No, no, you’re fine,” He nodded, taking in the work she had done on the garden. Various shades of purples and blues among plants and flowers, some mostly used for potion making. “Wow, amazing work.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s been the same since the last you saw it, nothing new,” Narcissa waved him off, checking out her own garden before turning her attention back to her son. “Are you eating alright? Has Astoria been feeding you?”</p><p>“I’m alright,” Draco snickered. “I’m just a bit tired, is all.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Narcissa spat, looping her arm through his. “I’ll have one of the elves fix you something to eat. Now help your mother inside.”</p><p>Being back at home felt different than the last time he had visited. It was sometime back in June, when he told his mother he and Astoria had gotten engaged. To Draco, it felt like so long ago, even though their engagement was fairly recent. Walking into the manor, he passed by the drawing room, eyeing it momentarily, the image of Hermione forcing its way into his memory. It startled him. He hadn’t seen that version of her in a while after being recently reintroduced to the woman he called his planner.</p><p>“You alright?” Narcissa asked cautiously, looking from the drawing room back to her son, as she was now trying to guide him to a meal.</p><p>“Yes, I’m alright.” He nodded, though he wasn’t sure how much he believed that for himself. Images of that night still haunted him, even if he hadn’t showed it. Draco had only made the mistake of showing a bit of it right then and there, but decided that it wasn’t the time for him to fret. A meal did sound swell, instead.</p><p>It wasn’t long before he was in the dining room, sitting down towards the end of the large table while his mother sat on the end. She was staring at him cautiously, watching him slurp down some soup, despite the warm weather, and took mouths full of meat and potatoes, and the vegetables steamed perfectly on his plate. Draco was sure he looked like a mad man but being home and eating the foods he had grown up on was possibly the highlight of his week, next to seeing his mother, of course. He looked up at her then, their eyes meeting as he reached for his napkin.</p><p>“Sorry,” He spoke after a swallow, wiping his face and now embarrassed for his lack of manners in his presence.</p><p>“That’s quite alright, my dear.” She raised a hand to stroke some of his hair, pushing it out of his face to not bother him as he ate.</p><p>“Here alone?” He asked.</p><p>“Mmm,” Narcissa nodded slowly, a slight shrug of her shoulder. “Mr. Greengrass and your father had become acquainted with one another. They go on afternoon walks every now and then. It’s good for him, you know. Getting out and having a friend for once.”</p><p>Draco remained silent, looking down at his own plate. He knew what questions would soon follow him after learning about his and Astoria’s father becoming well acquainted with each other. First, she’ll discuss work to try and throw him off track, then she’ll ask about him and Astoria, and then the wedding of course.</p><p>“How’s work?” Narcissa asked, causing Draco to snicker a bit at his accurate prediction.</p><p>“Work’s uh…work is good.” He nodded.</p><p>“And you and Astoria?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea like she were bracing herself for a wild answer, though she knew nothing of the sort would come. Draco fiddled with his hands a bit. How do you tell someone you’ve had a fight with someone in your head? Do you even say anything?</p><p>“We’re good.” His answers short and dry.</p><p>“Good,” She nodded. “Astoria is a fine Pureblood girl. Absolutely fine. She’s pretty and charming and all that you need out of a good wife. She’s perfect, though I don’t need to remind you of that.”</p><p>Draco could honestly count on both hands how many times he’s heard his mum call Astoria great, but he had completely lost count of all the times she was called perfect. But it wasn’t often he heard of anyone being perfect. And that she was, he couldn’t deny it, but he often wondered if <em>perfect </em>was genuine or a façade to him and the rest of the world. Lately, he couldn’t shake the fact that he felt he didn’t really know his fiancée well enough to call her <em>perfect.</em> But then he realized how silly that sounded. Why would he propose to Astoria if he thought he didn’t know her well enough? He sighed to himself and figured it was just the stress from planning, and shook it off momentarily, but the irritation from Astoria’s letter and the ongoing questions from his mother was just too much.</p><p>“And the planning?”</p><p>Draco picked up his fork, thinking that stuffing his face with food would stop the myriad of questions thrown at him. Yet, Narcissa reached for his hand, and placed hers on top gently before he could shove in another bite.</p><p>“You don’t have to continue hiring that Granger girl if you don’t want to. I’d understand if you wouldn’t mind me having a hand in it, myself. You know I’ve thrown my soirees here all the time.”</p><p>“I’m aware, mother. Astoria really wants a lot and she admires the work that Hermione has done.” He hadn’t realized he had spoken Hermione’s name so fluidly just then. It’s like it just came naturally to him, rolling right off the tongue, though still odd to him. He watched Narcissa’s stare, and noticed it grow firm.</p><p>“Will she be decorating the manor, too?”</p><p>“Yes, mother. She’s a lot of brilliant ideas.”</p><p>“I just fear it’ll be too…too <em>Muggle</em>. I’m not prejudice, you know, we’re just traditional. Two Pureblood families celebrating this union. There will be two hundred guests here, and I don’t want to shamed for this event.”</p><p>“You won’t be shamed. If anything it’ll be Granger.” Draco taunted slightly.</p><p>Narcissa continued to stare at Draco, this time with more meaning behind her eyes. He hadn’t seen this look in years. Six, to be exact. It was one of worry and fear, and seeing her in this way made him feel, temporarily, like the scared teenager he was when Voldemort was overtaking his house.</p><p>“I’m worried,” She admitted. Draco leaned closer, wanting to know more about what was troubling her. “About the wedding.”</p><p>
  <em>Great.</em>
</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Having that girl in our house after six years, you don’t think she’ll try something? This isn’t just her way of trying to get back at us, is it? One curse when no one’s watching, and your big day could be ruined. She could ruin <em>us</em>. I wouldn’t trust anyone who would willingly go back to the place that once caused them such pain. I don't like this, but I'll like it for you.”</p><p>Internalizing his mother’s concerns, Draco forced a smile. He knew that Hermione wasn’t vindictive or cruel. She had displayed such a brave act of solidarity towards him just days ago. But as much as he felt inclined to prove his mother wrong about Hermione’s nature, he knew it wouldn’t look right if he were defending her at this moment. The last thing he wanted was for her to begin questioning him and the nature of their relationship, whether or not it delved beyond wedding planning. Truthfully, the easy answer was no, but to Draco, he had started to actually look forward to having someone around that he could possibly not discuss work, Astoria, perfection, and the wedding every hour and every minute, even if that person just so happened to be his wedding planner.</p><p>“You have nothing to worry about, mother. Everything will be alright.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco had waited until his father arrived home from his time with Mr. Greengrass. Their conversations, much like his mother’s, had routine. There were the given questions, maybe a random question diving a bit deeper into work, and then there was the wedding. So far, Draco felt as though he should be considered the wedding planner. And so, he found himself apparating back to his flat later than expected.</p><p>Stepping into his home, he was once again welcomed by silence. Same old, same old. Though this time around, he was actually fond of it. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his time spent was actually left conversing with people, or if he just wanted a moment of peace and quiet to not divert so much of his energy into the thought of an ever-growing wedding, but he knew that right now, having no thoughts was better than having too many.</p><p>Draco headed towards his bedroom, kicking his shoes off in unabashed comfortability of his own, empty home, and began to unbutton his shirt, yawning the whole way there and jumped at the sight of Astoria sitting on the bed, a bright smile on her face at the sight of him.</p><p>“Jeez, I almost hexed you!” Draco snapped. Astoria, merely ignoring him, got up from the bed and threw her arms around her fiancé, planting delicate kisses along his neck.</p><p>“Did you miss me?”</p><p>Draco held her back, his mind now fluttering back with thoughts of…well, everything. What was once vacant now housed questions about the wedding, about a possible harpist, and now the column in the Prophet. Before he could even answer, her lips crashed against his in what Astoria aimed for passion, but was instant awkwardness on his end. Draco gently pulled away, still holding his petite fiancée, but now searching in her eyes.</p><p>“I thought you weren’t coming back for another week.”</p><p>Astoria scoffed and looked him over.</p><p>“Draco Malfoy, it’s been exactly a week,” Astoria bit. She looked him over, dainty fingers crossing over his unbuttoned shirt and flopped collar, a slight look of dissatisfaction in his appearance on her face. “What, you didn’t miss me?”</p><p>Draco sighed, smiling at her, trying to center himself.</p><p>“Of course I did.”</p><p>Astoria smiled back, kissing him again as cold hands rested on either side of his face. Draco tried to kiss her back, trying to move into the passion to see where it would lead, but he just wasn’t feeling it. Not tonight, at least. He pulled away from her again and paused, seeing narrowed eyes and a frown on Astoria. This had been one of few times he had seen her as anything less than her idea of perfection, and he had to admit that he liked it. She felt and looked real to him, but once seeing that she was upset, he stopped his admiration.</p><p>“What’s wrong with you?” Astoria asked, folding her arms in front of her chest as she went and sat on the bed.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>“I’ve been gone for a whole week Draco and you hadn’t written me once, and when I decide to write to you, you didn’t even return my owl. And now it’s like you don’t even want to kiss me.”</p><p>“Nothing’s wrong, Astoria. I was just at my mum and dads for most of the day and I just got really tired being there.” Draco frowned as well, pretending to stretch and sigh to emphasize that he was exhausted, though in actuality he wasn’t even that tired.</p><p>“Draco, I just feel like you aren't really trying when it comes to the wedding, and now even us.”</p><p>“Ask Granger for yourself, I’ve met with her frequently.” This was a half truth. He had met with Hermione professionally once where he offered not much help to the trying witch, and the other time when she stopped him from hexing the shopkeeper.</p><p>Astoria raised an eyebrow, looking Draco over and cocked her head to the side. She was studying him, trying to find the lie somewhere within him, though when not finding any, she decided to speak.</p><p>“You haven’t been flirting with our wedding planner, have you?” She asked in a tone that delivered both playfulness and inquisition towards her beau. Soon after, Astoria smirked at him as if she were pleased with herself for daring such a question.</p><p>Draco clearly caught off guard shook his head quickly, walking towards Astoria.</p><p>“Flirt with Granger?” He asked. Those words would have sent a thirteen-year-old version of himself  pretending to retch at the thought, but was now not too unfathomable to imagine. They were adults and civil, now. Since when did civility get misconstrued as flirting?</p><p>“I’m only joking.” Astoria remarked, though Draco knew she wasn’t. At least not entirely.</p><p>The couple discussed more of Astoria’s trip and the column in the Daily Prophet, filling in gaps of what they had did during their time apart. Sure, Draco was happy to have Astoria home, but he was looking forward to some time alone. At first feeling bad for wanting this, Draco convinced himself that sometimes being left to oneself was actually good for people, even if he didn’t enjoy it the first few days in. But he knew he could find quiet moments of solitude in the middle of the night when Astoria was fast asleep, and snoring softly. In her slumber, Draco couldn’t help but reflect on Astoria’s accusation, no matter how much she claimed it wasn’t one. Draco had never let on that he was interested in Granger in any way. If anything, he enjoyed her company as an acquaintance, but knew that most likely by December, he and Hermione Granger would most likely never speak again. Still, with that thought, it didn’t exactly please him, either. In the deepest parts of his mind, way past where his egoistic thoughts and learned behavior lie, he had begun to grown fond of having the young witch around.</p><p>With one last glance at Astoria, Draco stealthily slithered out of bed, and crept to his writing desk in front of the window. He stared at the blank parchment paper before him, and quickly picked up the quill. The words came to him effortlessly and in a moments notice, he had finished. Draco attached the message to his owl as quietly as he could and crawled back into bed right beside Astoria.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Granger,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll have the diorama of Malfoy Manor ready </em>
</p><p>
  <em>sometime next week.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let me know when I can stop by.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-DM</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello, hello, hello! If you've been sticking with me this far, I can promise you there is much more happening as the chapters progress. Right now I'm setting the scene! I don't necessarily have a posting schedule right now, but I try to update every two days, or sometimes even more frequently if not busy with work. But yes, do leave some comments to let me know what you think! I appreciate all the kudos and hits and bookmarks I've received so far!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tension rises for both Draco and Hermione as the pain from their past takes a toll on their blossoming friendship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the clean, white desk lay a miniature version of Malfoy Manor, though definitely smaller in size, but big enough to see intricate details of the estate. It took a few moments for Hermione to commend Malfoy on his work, as she was trying to find the right words to give him the proper kudos. She saw his once calm and expectant demeanor become laidback and nonchalant, to her amusement. He was so caught up in being cool and not showing too much emotion, that he refused to let himself remain visibly excited about her expression. And while it did amuse her to a degree, it saddened her that he had detached himself so easily. In order to not string him along any further, Hermione lifted her wand and casted a charm to see the inside of the manor, though stopped when seeing boxes where rooms apparently were in the floorplan, though not visible to her.</p><p>“There aren’t any rooms.” Hermione noticed, looking up at him. Malfoy looked down at the house and then back at her, a stoic expression still on his face as he carefully began to talk.</p><p>“I didn’t think they were necessary attachments for the wedding planning,” He confessed. “And besides I…you know…”</p><p>Hermione knew what he was getting at and decided that she didn’t want to hear anything beyond his logical plan. She didn’t want to hear that he stopped the project halfway to accommodate her, and she didn’t want to hear that he was taking pity out on her either. So for now, she wanted to be clueless to his second reasoning for not finishing the specific details of his homes interior. Instead, Hermione reached a calm hand out, laying it on his, and felt goosebumps line her skin. Inside, she was shaking, hoping that he wouldn’t trace back to the old Malfoy who would probably snatch his hand away from her and remark on how he had touched a Muggle. Still, no foul reaction came. The only thing Hermione could spot from him was a slight reddening of the ears, but that was truly all.</p><p>“It’s perfect,” she smiled. “You did extremely well.”</p><p>She took her hand from him and moved the miniature house around on her desk, studying it carefully. Her eyes landed on an open backyard space near what looked like a garden, and smirked. She had found a potential spot. She steadied her wand and looked up at Malfoy who was just as confused as she thought he would be.</p><p>“Your wand!”</p><p>Hermione waited for Draco to steady his in her direction and mumbled a charm, a small tent appearing in the grounds, and looked at Malfoy.</p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” he examined it. “It sort of looks…lumpy.”</p><p>“Lumpy,” Hermione shrieked, looking over it again, though stopping once hearing mild chuckles from Malfoy’s direction. She grinned softly and shook her head. “Come on, pay attention.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t exactly think that a tent will look presentable for the manor grounds.” Malfoy analyzed. Hermione silently agreed and snapped her fingers, changing the color of the tent to a matte black. Hermione flicked her wand and around the tent’s structure were lime green and yellow lanterns, keeping with the dark theme of the house and the colors representing Slytherin, to her chagrin.</p><p>“Better?” She asked.</p><p>“We’re getting there. I just can’t imagine what it’ll look like inside the tent.”</p><p>“There will be plenty of space, I assure you. And it can double as the reception hall. It’ll be beautiful,” Hermione spoke. She looked up, noticing Malfoy eyeing her, unable to read the expression on his face. It wasn’t exactly a look of disgust, or the common Malfoy sneer, but rather a look of curiosity. She chalked it up to him wanting to know more of her vision for the venue, but still cocked her head to find out exactly what he was thinking. “You hate it?”</p><p>Malfoy laughed a bit to himself and shook his head defeatedly. “Don’t tell me you, the professional, is doubting herself.”</p><p>“I’m not! I just want it to look nice for you,” She started. “And Astoria.”</p><p>Malfoy leaned back in the chair that he once deemed uncomfortable and studied her even more this time.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re brilliant, and I trust your eye.” This time, Hermione was the one to turn red from the compliment. Then, from their distance, she got the chance to notice the pointed features of his face, features she hadn’t noticed beforehand. She had grown up around her two best mates, noticing how they changed as they grew, but realized she had failed to regard Malfoy in the same manner back then. Hermione had started to wonder when he had gotten handsome, and figured that he always was, she just hadn’t noticed until now. Originally feeling silly for thinking of her client, let alone Malfoy, she brushed it off as nothing more than pure, innocent observation. He was good looking, yes, but so were other wizards. And so was Ron. Hermione snapped herself out of her thoughts and ignored him temporarily, lifting her wand to add seats and tables inside the tent.</p><p>“But can I trust your ears?” Hermione asked, a sly grin creeping on her face to Malfoy’s puzzlement.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“A harpist?” Hermione asked, shaking her head at the thought. “Let me know and I’ll fit it in the budget somehow but it’s hard to work when so many things keep getting added on top of each other without me knowing.”</p><p>“So, you read the paper too, I guess.” He spoke, now remembering the insane speculations revolving around their wedding. Hermione took notice of his change in voice and realized that this probably wasn’t easy on either of them. Astoria was off doing bride tasks most of the time, and the only thing Malfoy had to handle for her in her absence, was wedding planning. Hermione had to admit, though, that he began filling in the gaps rather nicely. “It’s like this wedding is becoming one big show instead of representing what it’s supposed to.”</p><p>Hermione thought for a moment and looked him over, then coyly turning her attention to the house in front of her.</p><p>“How about everyday you wake up, you do something courageous for yourself? For no one, but yourself?”</p><p>“Who says I’m not doing anything courageous already?” Malfoy asked, his voice slightly insulted.</p><p>“Well, are you?”</p><p>Hermione was met with silence to his answer and figured that’s all she needed to know that he was putting in a lot of work and effort to make this special not just for himself, but for Astoria. Still, she couldn’t help but notice his change in demeanor.</p><p>“I saw that Hogwarts was looking for a new Potions professor for next year.” Hermione shrugged, both concentrating on the diorama and glancing back to Malfoy’s face every now and then. It was clear that he didn’t get what she was hinting at.</p><p>“And?” He asked, a bit impatient though still respectful. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, staring at him, soon smirking once his eyes narrowed. He finally solved the puzzle. “No, no way.”</p><p>“Why not? You were really good at Potions the last I remember.” Hermione insisted. She had recalled days where she and Malfoy had been in silent competitions, though no one else in their year had taken notice. She remembered trying not to pay attention to him in class, but still willing to beat her only real competition at Hogwarts. He was intelligent, she knew that much, but with Potions, he was especially gifted. She had often wondered if it were because of Professor Snape. They were close, seeing the two as more of a godfather and godson duo than a Professor/Student relationship, and started to wonder if that were so.</p><p>“I work at the Ministry already, Granger.”</p><p>“Are you happy, though?”</p><p>Malfoy paused for a moment, truly considering her question.</p><p> “Whatever that means,” Malfoy looked down at the manor and then back to the witch. “Is that why you left?”</p><p>“Happiness shouldn’t be so complex, in my opinion,” She started. “And yes, that’s exactly why I had left.”</p><p>“And you’re happy now, or something?”</p><p>“Why is it that happiness seems so foreign to you?” Hermione asked near unbelievable laughter. It was as if Malfoy had a lock on happiness and refused to open it up.</p><p>“I just think that when we do things based off of emotion, often it leads to a lot more than we can handle.”</p><p>“Says the man getting married—the most emotional task ever.”</p><p>“All I’m saying is that everything has to come to a head eventually.”</p><p>“Well if you continue to expect the happiness to run out, then of course you’ll meet a dead end.” Hermione smirked.</p><p>“Why are you so concerned about it anyways?” Malfoy spoke after much deliberation.</p><p>“About what exactly?”</p><p>“About me? About Hogwarts?”</p><p>Hermione hadn’t realized she pulled a smile after hearing him say those words and placed both hands flat on her desk, eyeing him firmly.</p><p>“Concerned? About <em>you</em>?” Hermione erupted into exaggerated laughter that was even hard for Malfoy, himself, to not release a snicker or two. Hermione came to a stop on her toying around and found herself analyzing Malfoy once again. She wanted to clean up her joking around with something serious; something she truly believed and felt. “Plus, I believe in you.”</p><p>She watched as Malfoy met her eyes once more, a look of silent shock fallen on his keen face which soon turned into a small, gentle smile. More moments of silence passed between the two and Hermione could feel her heart racing. But why? The witch suddenly realized that she was staring and broke their gaze first. She cleared her throat, a bit embarrassed and silently reprimanded herself for her unprofessionalism.</p><p>
  <em>You love Ron!</em>
</p><p>The voice in her head almost sounded disciplinary and upset at her. She had even tried to go as far as to remind herself of her past conflict with Malfoy, though to no avail. She didn’t want to think of those things when around him. She just didn’t. She was having far too much of a good time being with him. Afterall, she did love her job and often found herself making connections, even if temporary, with the couples she planned with. But she wondered how odd it was to only have been starting a middle ground with just Malfoy. Still, it was all just wedding planning. There wasn’t any harm in that, was there?</p><p>Hermione stood and began fidgeting with her fingers, as though trying to work her nerves out through handwork and looked at him.</p><p>“Tea?”</p><p>“Tea is fine.” Malfoy nodded, a bit quieter than she were used to, and nodded.</p><p>“Okay, well, I suggest you start numbering the tables and seeing how far you can get with certain placements until Astoria comes and has a hand in this.”</p><p>Hermione left him to the task and walked briskly to the kitchen area. Again, her inner voice attacked her.</p><p>
  <em>Why are you acting this way? </em>
</p><p>All she was doing was engaging with her client, but it felt a little wrong to be meeting up with him sans his fiancée, especially when it was their wedding she was attending to. But she kept trying to find what was lying deep down inside her that caused her to second guess her friendly nature, so. When did she care to consider this as anything more than what it actually was? Besides, he’s getting married for Melin’s sake. It just slightly bothered her that all these were considerations that Hermione had to remind herself of, and a part of her felt shameful for letting her mind divert to those thoughts, either way.</p><p>Still deep in thought, Hermione began pouring the tea into two cups, watching the release from the hot water meeting the teabag. She was stalling, trying to regroup herself and her thoughts before entering back into her office.</p><p>“Here we are.” She tried to smile as she handed off his cup and sat back down at her desk, examining what Malfoy had completed in her absence.</p><p>“I sat Astoria’s aunts right next to each other. Figured that would be alright.”</p><p>Hermione peered into the tent, seeing a table and floating names hovering over the small chairs, showing who each person was. Astoria’s two great-aunts, Gilda and Rosalind were seated next to each other, sending Hermione to shriek at the seating.</p><p>“Absolutely not!” Hermione spoke, moving one aunt to another table nearby.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“You can’t just place them together! Don’t you remember Astoria telling us how that’s the only seating arrangement she’s disapproved of?”</p><p>Malfoy thought for a second and shrugged, “She might’ve mentioned it,” He raised his wand and moved the aunt back to the table. “But it might be good to have family together.”</p><p>“But it’s a wedding and Astoria said no!”</p><p>“Who would fight at a wedding anyways? The most they’ll do is go back to their old argument topics from four hundred years ago. I’m sure that’s their ages, regardless!”</p><p>Hermione at first stifled the need to laugh, and then allowed a few giggles to leave her, as did Malfoy. The two stopped, though, upon hearing a sound come from Hermione’s sitting room. She wasn’t expecting anybody else today. Just Malfoy.</p><p>“Is that Astoria?” Hermione whispered to him.</p><p>“No, she’s out shopping with her mum today.” He replied, standing up with his wand drawn. Hermione followed his action but placed a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“You stay here. It’s probably nothing.” She tried to assure him, though realizing she was mostly assuring herself. Malfoy backed down silently and returned to his seat, which prompted Hermione to walk slowly to the sitting room and jumped when laying eyes upon Ginny. The slim witch was by herself, holding a tray of biscuits and sweets in a beautifully decorated platter, most of which Hermione noticed were some of her personal favorites.</p><p>“Hey!” Hermione greeted, both confused and surprised. As she studied Ginny, she tried desperately to remember if there was any meeting or outing that she had forgotten about on this day, and relaxed when she hadn’t recalled anything. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“Mum has a friend down at the old bakery who came and dropped some off for her. I figured I’d bring some to you in hopes of bribing you to become my planner.” Ginny grinned, triggering Hermione to do so as well.</p><p>“Of course, I will,” Hermione beamed at her. “You really didn’t have to bring the sweets, though I’m glad you did. Ron will love some of these, too.”</p><p>Hermione took the tray from Ginny and paused after hearing a thud coming from her office, hoping that her friend hadn’t heard as well. But it was so quiet in the large building, Hermione was certain she did.</p><p>“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Ginny asked, her face now twisting in guilt.</p><p>“Oh, it’s quite alright, I was just… I was moving some boxes around in the office. You know, trying to keep clean before the fall.”</p><p>“I”ll help!” Ginny smiled, starting out of the sitting area, but Hermione quickly called out to her.</p><p>“I’m expecting a client in a few minutes, though. I’m just going to tidy the boxes up a bit and lay these out if they want some.”</p><p>“Alright then, weirdo,” Ginny chuckled. “I’ll see you around, ‘Mione.”</p><p>Hermione watched Ginny Floo out of her sitting area and breathed a sigh of relief. This could have gone terribly if Malfoy had followed her without her knowledge, or if Ginny had even apparated to her office. Still, she found herself torn between two emotions. She hated lying to Ginny and Ron and nearly everyone else in her inner circle, but at the same time, she knew the fit Ron would throw had he found out. Though, Hermione had to admit that keeping Malfoy as a secret friend in her life and getting to know him without anyone else’s personal opinion of him, did feel nice. It was intriguing to see this side of him.</p><p>Reentering her office, Hermione flashed a breathless smile, still from her nerves of Malfoy being found out, and paused as Malfoy’s eyes pierced hers. He was silent, cold, and unlike the playfully sarcastic man she had just left moments ago. On her desk where his diorama once stood was now soot and a bunch of hot ash as Draco tightly gripped his wand. Hermione laid the tray on her desk near the pile, and stood near her door.</p><p>“That, uh…that was Ron’s sister.” She explained, her voice dry from the smell of whatever he had burned. “She’s getting married to Harry.”</p><p>“I heard,” Malfoy sneered, his eyes still focused intently on hers.</p><p>“Where’s the diorama?” Hermione asked, hoping that whatever was on her desk wasn’t the remnants of the miniature Malfoy Manor. Though, her heart dropped when his eyes darted carelessly to the ash, and then landed back on hers. Hermione honestly thought she would cry. He had put in so much work, and yet he destroyed it.</p><p>“What’s wrong with you,” Hermione spoke shakily, confused and upset.</p><p>“What’s wrong is that <em>you </em>think you’re so brilliant.” He spat.</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“What do you think it means?” Draco asked, standing up to walk out of her office, though Hermione blocked him from exiting. Draco rolled his eyes and apparated behind her, walking towards the sitting room.</p><p>“Hey!” Hermione called out, following him closely. “I’m not done talking to you.”</p><p>“But I’m done talking to you!”</p><p>“You’re not going to leave here without telling me why you’re so upset!”</p><p>Malfoy spun around quickly, making it almost impossible for Hermione to not crash into him, but instead they just found themselves close, closer than they had ever been before. Malfoy looked down at her, his eyes burning with feeling.</p><p>“Fine, I’ll tell you,” He started. “It’s because you’re acting like you’re so invested in helping me out but on the outside, you haven’t told anyone that you are.”</p><p>“Is it anyone’s business that I am?” She asked. “Do you want me to tell the world that I’m planning the <em>Wedding of The Ages so</em> they can come bother <em>me </em>about the inner scoop of the biggest Pureblood union?”</p><p>“Stop making it about them when it’s really about <em>you.</em>” Malfoy snapped. Hermione let out a defeated sigh and look him over, unsure how to speak honestly without hurting his feelings.</p><p>“I haven’t told anyone because Ron wouldn’t approve of me planning your wedding since he still doesn’t trust you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”</p><p>Hermione stared into his eyes, her heart racing more than ever now. She could see that he was hurting, but it didn’t stop the fact that she was hurting, too.</p><p>“It’s all I needed to hear to know that you’re ashamed of being around me.”</p><p>“I’m not! I just—”</p><p>“You think that deep down, I’m still the same bloke you’ve known back in Hogwarts that’ll shout prejudices at you when I’m mad enough. You think I willingly became who I was, don’t you,” Malfoy asked, though realizing he didn’t need an answer from her, he spoke once more.</p><p>“I don’t want you as our planner anymore.”</p><p>“Where is this coming from?” Hermione’s voice in a low whisper out of fear that if her voice rose just a bit, she would shed a tear or two.</p><p>“It’s coming from this,” Malfoy spoke, raising his shirt sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark he obtained years ago. “Everyone only ever sees this when they see me.” The mark on his arm was faded and gray in color, contrasting the original black that it once was, and it appeared to have been scarring him from the inside out, it’s lines perforated in various spots. It was quite the sight, and for once, Hermione finally considered what this was about. The reason why Malfoy was so upset with her, was that he was used to people ogling at him for his unwanted association in the organization. He trusted her, and in covering for herself, he couldn’t see her genuine demeanor anymore. He didn’t want this social isolation, and no one understood that. But even though Hermione did, seeing the mark took her back to her youth. She flinched at the sight of his mark, uncomfortable at the view and took a step back.</p><p>“You think you’re the only one living with the scars from the war?” Hermione could feel herself sobbing now. She desperately wanted to show her scar to him, as it turned out, she had almost forgotten that it was even there sometimes when around him. But now, of all times, she was drawn to the scar, the meaning behind it, and where she got it. She watched as Malfoy was searching her covered arm, analyzing it with shaky breaths as if he could see it through the fabric. He had feared seeing it in its entirety, having gotten only half looks through the summer. “You let me lay there and you did nothing while your aunt scarred me!”</p><p>Hermione hated that she was crying now, but the weight of his accusations came tumbling down on her as though she were being held down by his aunt on the floor of Malfoy Manor’s drawing room. And as she cried, her mind forcing her to relive the moments from that night, she looked up at the pained man and decided to ask a question.</p><p>“Why didn’t you do something?”</p><p>Malfoy stared, searching the sitting room for an answer, his eyes occasionally darting back to her arm and then landing permanently on her deep browns.</p><p>“I have to go.”</p><p> </p><p>                                                                                          ---</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The food on Draco’s plate remained untouched, looking perfectly picturesque as it sat there, growing colder by the minute. He hadn’t realized how odd he must have looked, sitting there quietly to himself as conversations carried on around him, rarely including him. It wasn’t until his time spent with Hermione that he had realized how excluded he was from his own wedding. Even now. He looked around at the dining room that he was seated in. His mother was laughing charmingly at a story that Mrs. Greengrass was telling to her company. Something about Astoria being two years old and picking up a random stick outside their house, pretending to do magic and becoming upset at the lack of recourse. He wasn’t listening to it though. Astoria had told him that story on their first date. He had once laughed at it but was now indifferent to all that was going on currently. Though he felt invisible amongst his own family and those that were soon-to-be, he had to admit that he liked not having to chime in with feigned charisma to entertain guests. In his silence, he thought about Hermione and their awful row. He had picked and pressed her for his own insecurity, and therefore unleashed a wound that he was sure she had closed a long time ago. But the way her tears fell so easily made him think the opposite of that claim. He had come to the conclusion the day of their fight that he liked Hermione. He admired her kindness and her willingness to move forward, though at the time of their dispute, he didn’t see it. And she was trying to help them, even when she still questioned why he hadn’t helped her those years ago. The pretty witch had actually became someone he possibly could’ve considered a friend, and he ruined it. But he struggled with wondering why her absence plagued him so.</p><p>Draco reached for his glass of wine, drinking the rest of it down. He could sense his mother looking at him, though not trying to draw attention to her gulping son, but instead furrowed once he caught the attention of Mr. Greengrass.</p><p>“A man with a thirst,” Mr. Greengrass chimed, lifting his glass in Draco’s direction. Everyone grinned at him except for Astoria, his mother and father, clearly detecting something was off with the quiet man. “Care for another?”</p><p>Draco looked at his empty glass and nodded in the direction of Mr. Greengrass.</p><p>“Yes, sir.” He nodded politely, resting shaking hands in his lap.</p><p>“Perhaps you should eat something before another glass, darling?” Astoria spoke. Draco looked at her pretty yet irritated face. He knew simply from her expressions that she wasn’t asking him but instead telling him to digest something that would sop up the alcohol.</p><p>“Nonsense, my lovely. We’re nearing September, the wedding is about three months away— this is a celebratory occasion!” Mr. Greengrass insisted as he waved off his daughter. Draco, still feeling Astoria’s eyes on him, instead watched his future father-in-law instead whisper firmly to a house elf to bring more wine to the dining table, a gesture the young wizard was most grateful for.</p><p>“So, Draco,” Mrs. Greengrass spoke next. “Astoria tells me that you’ve known the wedding planner?”</p><p>“Oh mother, maybe that conversation isn’t appropriate right now.” Astoria pushed past.</p><p>“It’s just a question, dear.” Her mother spoke, then turning her direction back to Draco.</p><p>“We were in the same year at Hogwarts, but different houses.”</p><p>“My, my, how nice,” The overly excited woman commended. “To have a friend do such a favor for you.”</p><p>
  <em>A friend. </em>
</p><p>Draco turned his attention back to his plate and noticed exactly what was disturbing him tonight. His plate, though having food laying on it nicely, was clean. Too clean. Not even a droplet of oil visible on the plate except for what was on the actual food, nor a single item out of place. His asparagus was all the same length, facing the same direction, with an oily sheen to it. It almost looked fake. His steak, like his mother and father’s were nearly identical, facing the same way. He looked at Astoria and her parents’ plate, a chicken breast also in the same direction. This was all a subtle yet calculated plan to notice and think highly of them. Draco even strayed to the idea that Astoria’s family could possibly even be nervous on being anything but acceptable and perfect to a family once in the good graces of Voldemort. This idea and need of perfection bothered him. Astoria was not like this when he first met her. She was his friend first, of course, but more than anything, she was the type to laugh loud and proud, even snorting occasionally. She often tripped when walking into the Great Hall because she would somehow always forget to overstep the small, chipped floor paneling on her way to the Slytherin tables. She was authentic and unapologetic. But after she graduated and moved back in with her parents, it’s like a switch had gone off. She focused more on outside perception and caution. She would never venture off where danger lied, though who would, but it would be nice to consider it with her sometimes. And then as they carried on, he felt that once their relationship began, their friendship had died. It was painful. He was alone even when he wasn’t.</p><p>But then the words from his future mother-in-law pranced back into his mind so wildly.</p><p>
  <em>A friend. </em>
</p><p>Hermione was a friend.</p><p>He looked up at Astoria’s mother and nodded, a small smile on his face.</p><p>“Yes, Hermione is quite the brilliant friend.”</p><p>Soon, Draco could feel all eyes on him as he waited rather impatiently for the house elf to refill his glass. But the most damned looks came from his mother and father. His mother would swear up and down that she weren’t prejudice, though the look in her eye after complimenting and then considering a Muggle-born his friend proved otherwise. And his father? Well, he knew his father didn’t care to lie about his prejudices if they were already so outward.</p><p>“Oh, good.” Astoria’s mother spoke abruptly, not wanting to further finish the conversation.</p><p>“So, Draco,” Mr. Greengrass spoke up, his eyes smiling at him as wide as his mouth did. “How’s the Ministry treating you?”</p><p>The elf came around and saved Draco from actually considering the question as he thanked him with a polite nod. Before answering, he raised his glass silently as everyone else followed. He took a gulp, placed his glass down while everyone else sipped politely.</p><p>“I’m thinking of applying to a position at Hogwarts.”</p><p>Astoria, sitting beside him, coughed a bit at the idea and patted her chest.  </p><p>“You what?” Lucius spoke, leaning forward and trying to contain the anger in his voice.</p><p>“They’re hiring for a Potions position for the next term.”</p><p>“But son,” Narcissa spoke, forcing a smile on her face. “You already have a great job that you worked so hard for on your own.”</p><p>Draco scoffed, his previous glasses of wine kicking in now just after his mother’s lie.</p><p>“On my own,” He shook his head. “Let’s not forget that father put in a very good word to help me even get considered.”</p><p>The entire table was visibly uncomfortable now, except for Mr. Greengrass who simply continued on with the same jeer he had all night.</p><p>“Nothing wrong with a little nepotism, right Lucius?” He grinned freely.</p><p>“Well, I for one will support you regardless of this unexpected change, my sweet,” Astoria spoke, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek. He hated how she spoke of the opportunity like he were considering something that was beneath him. Perhaps after the war, everyone was a bit on edge of having Draco back at Hogwarts, but that wouldn’t stop him. “Where did you get the idea from to apply to the job, anyway?”</p><p>Draco thought for a moment. He didn’t want to lie in front of both of their families, but he also didn’t see a reason to. He was an adult and could make his own decisions on his career and his life. He didn’t need a push and shove from others. So he beamed an honest smile at his fiancée and answered her.</p><p>“Hermione.”</p><p>The dining room fell quiet with the exception of Astoria who placed her napkin on the table. She flashed a warm smile to both her parents and Draco’s. She reached for his hand with a tight grip and wondered how she were able to both smile with such a menacing hold.</p><p>“Could you excuse us for a brief moment.” She spoke, excusing both herself and Draco as they walked away from the dining room and into a hall near their grand staircase. Draco stood staring at Astoria, who was upset, though he couldn’t figure out why. “What the hell was that all about? Your behavior is appalling, you’ve nearly drank yourself stupid, and now this?”</p><p>“So my contribution to dinner conversation wasn’t good enough, I assume? Was it not <em>perfect</em>?”</p><p>“You keep bringing up her name like she’s a damn celebrity or something.”</p><p>“I saw the ad in the paper and she encouraged me to apply. I was just considering it. It didn’t mean I was going to actually do it.” Draco shrugged, though in fact he was considering it.</p><p>Astoria’s eyes narrowed at him and her arms folded across her chest, suspicions rising on something. As Draco stood still, he watched as Astoria walked around him completely as though looking for something, and met him back toe-to-toe.</p><p>“When did she tell you this?”</p><p>“About two weeks ago or so. I met up with her at her office to do some planning.”</p><p>Astoria scoffed to herself and shook her head, a look of disgust sprawled over his face. Draco would be lying if he said he weren’t concerned, but it felt good to have yet another non-positive emotion come to the surface.</p><p>“You’ve been wedding planning without me?”</p><p>“You’re always busy running errands so I thought I’d pick up the slack on the days you can’t come.”</p><p>“I have to say that I’m completely disappointed,” She began, looking down at her pretty red shoes to avoid emotion if she were to look at him. “You spend most of your time out, which I’m now assuming is spent with Hermione Granger, a witch you’ve detested for most of your adolescence. On top of that, I’m just now finding out that you’ve been going to her office to plan<em> our </em>wedding, just the two of you. I’m not saying I don’t trust you, it’s just that…well you never even invited me to accompany you. It’s just all so strange to me, Draco. Very strange.”</p><p>Draco sighed, fully seeing the hurt in her eyes. It brought him back to when she first came from holiday and asked him if he were flirting with Hermione. Of course, then he thought she was mostly joking, but now he can tell she was deathly serious then, and just as serious, now.</p><p>“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”</p><p>“No, no,” Astoria spoke, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to let him off that easy, and he knew it. “I want you to tell me that you’ll never develop anything beyond this odd friendship for Hermione Granger.”</p><p>“I won’t.” He pleaded, both tired and irritated now as the alcohol settled in some more.</p><p>“Say it.” Astoria spat in a voice he was certain both their families could hear.</p><p>“Nothing will ever come out of our friendship.” He spoke, though at this exact moment, considering all the thoughts floating in his mind, he couldn’t be able to make that a promise. Then, as if their difficult conversation hadn’t even happened, he watched Astoria breathe in deeply and force a wide smile on her face.</p><p>“Let’s finish dinner then, shall we?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--This was my longest chapter yet, ranging in at 5600 words. I was hoping it wouldn't be too much for just one chapter but I have the chapters planned out in a certain order. I hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I loved writing it for you!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco comes to a sudden conclusion about Hermione while she discovers a newfound fear for her own future.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>SEPTEMBER 1</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>From her living room, Hermione could hear the snoring match that Ron and Harry were having just down the hall. It didn’t do either of them any good having her bedroom and the guest bedroom across the way and so close to each other. It wasn’t nearly that late, and it was Saturday night at that, but she also understood that both men had gotten used to such a sleep schedule because of work, and that it unintentionally crept over into their free time, most days. But of course, Hermione figured that being around other witches and wizards, and children of all sort, it had to be a bit tiring for big Uncle Ron. She always liked how he was with kids, never shying away from them in the slightest, and even showcasing his gentleness when holding the newest Weasley baby, Fred. George was delighted, the quietest Hermione had ever seen him in the longest, talking in almost a whisper. Angelina, too, spoke softly to everyone in attendance at The Burrow, not wanting to wake their sleeping child. Their family was ever growing, evolving into a bigger span of Weasleys. She often wondered what it felt like for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, soon knowing they’d possibly have a plethora of grandchildren, and figured it was nothing they couldn’t handle before. Secretly, Hermione thought that if Ron had fallen asleep so easily from playing a never-ending game of hide-n-seek with Victoire, and holding baby Fred for what seemed like forever, she figured that maybe he really wasn’t ready for his own life expansion. Hermione’s thought got interrupted by the sound of both Ron and Harry engaging in an unintended snoring contest. Those two combined could wake the dead.  </p>
<p>“Think they’ll wake each other up?” Hermione grinned, flipping through a BRIDE magazine. Ginny was resting her head on Hermione’s lap, her legs hanging off the arm of their couch while she flipped through a wedding dress magazine. A small chuckle came from the girl at the question.</p>
<p>“I doubt it. They’re both terribly heavy sleepers,” Ginny remarked, then let out an unsatisfying groan at the photos. “Magazines are so boring. How do you expect to see the full beauty of the dress from just a still photograph? Twirl! Do something!”</p>
<p>Hermione laughed a bit at her friend’s frustration and glanced at the wedding dress that Ginny was staring at.</p>
<p>“That one’s pretty.” Hermione chimed, analyzing the sleeves, sweetheart neckline and straight bodice. It was simple yet elegant, everything that Hermione could see Ginny wearing for her day.</p>
<p>“It is, isn’t it? But I know mum would want me to wear her wedding dress or something like that.”</p>
<p>“Something borrowed.” Hermione remarked, generating a questioned ‘hmm’ from the girl on her lap.</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s a saying in the Muggle world. Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I thought I told you this.” Hermione smirked, nudging her head gently with her elbow.</p>
<p>“You didn’t.” Ginny spoke, continuing to flip through the pages of the magazine. A small thought crossed Hermione, and she then realized she hadn’t said that saying to Ginny, but instead to Malfoy. She had tried her best to not think of him, to not even cultivate the simplest thought pertaining to the man, but sometimes she would fall short on trying. And in order to not allow her emotions to get too frayed, she would often push all thoughts of Malfoy out to make space for a thought far less difficult.</p>
<p>The night’s events dawned on Hermione as they continued sitting in silence with the occasional turn of the magazine pages. She remembered Fred’s small little face and how good Ron was with holding him. It came natural to him, whereas she had found herself rather awkward.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe George’s a dad.” Hermione spoke, tossing her magazine on the coffee table in front of her. She couldn’t really figure out why the thought had come to her and so heavily. Her heart was warm from being around children and felt that if she could feel this way just from seeing George’s son, she wondered what it would be like when she would first hold her own child. A small sadness came over her. Hermione knew it wasn’t like that would never happen, it’s just that she wished she had a clearer timeframe on when.</p>
<p>“I know. He was quite the annoying bloke growing up, him and big Fred,” Ginny spoke. “But I have faith that he’ll do well It just almost feels surreal to me, too.”</p>
<p>Another silence passed over the two women, and Hermione took notice that Ginny was staring at the wedding dress in the catalog. Hermione wasn’t cross at the fact that everywhere she looked, she saw wedding dresses. It was the life she chose for herself after her time at the Ministry, but lately, after being decommissioned from the Malfoy wedding, she felt drained and sad, even. That day, she had cleaned the ash from her desk and sat for a moment, hurt encompassing her in ways she thought she had once managed. Perhaps she had been wrong about Malfoy this whole time. He had always turned to cruel words when feeling inadequate or insecure, but she didn’t think he would do this as an adult. But as much as she was hurt by his words, she still wasn’t hurt by him. She knew that, like many other people in the world, they were still learning to live with their losses and battle scars from the war. Everyone coped and expressed themselves in different ways.</p>
<p>“Did you ever have a dream dress of your own,” Ginny started. “Like, if you were to get married, what dress would you pick?” Suddenly, Ginny rose up from her laying position and sat cross legged beside Hermione.</p>
<p>“That’s pretty hard. I haven’t really looked at a bridal catalog, lately.” Hermione trailed off. She hadn’t realized how quiet her own voice had gotten at her response and watched as Ginny playfully nudged her arm.</p>
<p>“Ron will come around.”</p>
<p>Hermione stared at her for a moment, shocked at what she had just said, and looked her friend over.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, what?”</p>
<p>Ginny sighed a bit, regretting saying anything but didn’t turn back on her thought.</p>
<p>“Ron came to us the day after Harry proposed and said you two had an awful fight,” Ginny confessed. “He didn’t say what it was about to me, but he spoke mostly to Harry.”</p>
<p>“And Harry told you?” Hermione’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p>Ginny grimaced, a bit embarrassed at her indirect source of communication and ignored her.</p>
<p>“Listen, Ron loves you. I’m sure you know that.”</p>
<p>“I do, but—”</p>
<p>“You just gotta give the man some time. You know how weird boys can get about the whole commitment thing.”</p>
<p>Hermione scoffed, feeling a bit ambushed by their conversation and looked at Ginny.</p>
<p>“I just feel like if there’s some sort of reservations about commitment, then that’s an answer for itself, right,” Hermione thought. “When people get engaged and start to take that step, it’s assumed that they’re ready and willing.”</p>
<p>“Not everybody,” Ginny smirked. “I remember Florence Humgarden, a girl from my year, got engaged to some Durmstrang bloke right after Hogwarts, and they called it off just two months before the wedding.”</p>
<p>“That’s horrible,” Hermione frowned. “I guess somethings just don’t work out.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Ginny nodded. “But she was a proper bitch sometimes, anyways. And to her I say, ‘don’t hold on so tight to that safety net’.”</p>
<p>Hermione didn’t know what to make of that. Safety net? The way Ginny spoke, it made it seem like she knew that Florence was the type to always do what felt easiest. What a strange way to live. To follow so gallantly with what <em>seemed</em> right instead of what <em>felt </em>right. As Ginny sat there, yawning and then tossing wild arms around Hermione to wish her a good night, Hermione instead sat on her couch, alone. Had she been treading along a safety net? Was she doomed to eventually fall into Florence’s demise?</p>
<p>Thinking began to hurt, sending a dull headache to both her temples. She walked towards her bedroom, stopping at the door as she watched Ron sleep, his body sprawled all over the bed. Crookshanks, who was sitting precisely on her pillow was either guarding the sleeping man or waiting for Hermione, though it charmed her to think it were both. She rubbed her arms slightly and closed the bedroom door, walking back into the living room and laying on the couch.</p>
<p>In the faint snores and groans from the bedrooms, Hermione couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to the blonde man she had screamed at weeks ago. More than anything, she was upset that a friendship that had begun to form was now at an end so easily. While she didn’t enjoy it, she felt it would be better to tie up loose ends now than it were to rid herself of the mysterious man after his nuptials, after she got too attached. Hermione could feel herself fighting against the thought. She hadn’t felt any fondness towards Malfoy until after her fight with Ron, and felt that she was just plaguing herself with overthinking because she knew what lied in the bigger picture. Actually, in two bigger pictures. But she damned those thoughts, not ready to see them for what they really were and looked down at the scar on her arm. She felt angry that he hadn’t answered her about her question, that he instead chose to leave rather than give any amount of clarity. It wasn’t fair. None of these thoughts were fair. None of her feelings were fair. None of the complexities and inner turmoil she endured. None of it. But she knew that if that was the last time she was going to see Draco Malfoy, she knew she needed to tame this pain within her that came from her scar.</p>
<p>So, she began to write.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>By the time you’ll be receiving this letter</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ll be on my way to Malfoy Manor.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t try to stop me. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-Granger</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sunlight crept into his window that morning, illuminating their bedroom in the prettiest of ways. Draco loved watching the days come and go. He felt those were the fastest parts of his day. The sun would come rushing in, almost, ready to take on a new day and smiling bright as though it had never done so before. Under his hold was Astoria, in the nude just as he were, squinting a bit after the sun continued to shine through. She shifted underneath him, looking up with a tired grin and kissing him right on the chin. He loved quiet, Sunday mornings, sharing moments that only silence could understand, and the day ahead not yet pulsating with tasks. He loved to be still. To remain in this same position after a light stretch, and just allow himself to be. Though, Astoria was the opposite.</p>
<p>“Good morning, my sweet.” Astoria spoke softly. “How long have you been awake?”</p>
<p>“Not long.” Draco replied, though in actuality he had managed to sneak away from her about an hour beforehand. Lately, sleep wasn’t necessarily in Draco’s favour. He was certain he looked like shit, but as much as he had wanted to get some much needed rest, his body wouldn’t comply at all. So, he had tried to shower and brushed his teeth, thinking that would help relax him a bit, but he had finished just in time to watch the sunrise. And that he did. Despite being tired, it was worth it.</p>
<p>Draco watched as Astoria laid perfectly still for just a moment, and then gave a ready sigh to finish up with her day. He watched from their bed as she got out of bed and then shivered at the slight chill in the air. She went to close their flat window, still bare, and searched in Draco’s closet for one of his unworn dress shirts, using that to clothe herself. She turned back to him after putting her hair up and cocked her head to the side. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”</p>
<p>Draco knew she was talking about her ongoing hunt for the perfect wedding dress. She had gone to quite a few boutiques, even threatening to try a Muggle shop if she hadn’t found one soon enough. Still, at her question, Draco couldn’t help but think of Hermione’s warning words that he hadn’t taken seriously before during one of their one-on-one meetings.</p>
<p>
  <em>You never see the bride in her dress before the wedding. It’s bad luck!</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m alright.” He nodded, though tried to cover it up when realizing her sensitivity lately. “I just want to be surprised when I see you on the day.”</p>
<p>Astoria smiled and nodded.</p>
<p>“Good, because I think today’s the day.” She smiled, dancing happily before rushing back into the bed, kissing him. Draco wasn’t entirely sure if it were because he genuinely wanted to be surprised about her dress or if he had started to really believe in bad luck that made him not want to accompany her. Either way, he knew that now, as the wedding date neared, he had to be on his best behavior. “Remind me later to make the appointment with Miss Granger.”</p>
<p>Draco paused for a moment, no longer kissing her. He hadn’t told her that he had decommissioned Hermione as their planner, and frankly he didn’t have the heart to. He knew how much this wedding meant to her and he didn’t want to give her anymore reasons to be upset and call him out in front of both of their families with the wedding now three months away. He was in the most desperate, helpless bind, and not even the most brilliant witch could get him out of it.</p>
<p>Soon, just when Draco were about to suggest continuing to plan on their own, the couple jumped at the sound of an owl pecking at their window.</p>
<p>“Whose owl is that?” Astoria asked, sitting up on the bed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione. </em>
</p>
<p>Draco instantly got to his feet and opened the window.</p>
<p>“It’s my mum’s owl.” He lied.</p>
<p>“Your mum,” Astoria spoke, crossing her arms in front of her chest curiously. “It doesn’t look like your mum’s owl.”</p>
<p>Draco carefully retrieved the letter and glanced at his fiancé, searching her for the answer to his lie.</p>
<p>“The other one…died.” Draco dramatically lied.</p>
<p>Astoria gasped in terror. “Oh no, I didn’t know. I’m sorry. Should I get her flowers or something?”</p>
<p>Instead, Draco ignored her and read over the quick and curt letter. She was heading to the manor.</p>
<p>“Shit.” Draco cursed, momentarily forgetting to hide his emotions in front of Astoria before he started getting dressed.</p>
<p>“What happened? Is everything alright?”</p>
<p>“Uh,” Draco’s thought were tied up. He was caught between trying to find the quickest clothes he could think of, why Hermione was on her way to the manor, and furthermore, what lie could be good enough for Astoria to believe in. “It’s my parents. They need a specific document for the Ministry and they need help searching. It’s hidden away in our basement and there’s no magic allowed down there.”</p>
<p>“Oh, well I’ll come with you to help!”</p>
<p>“No,” Draco nearly spat, though he caught himself before his agitation could overtake him. “My parents are still a little sensitive about their personal arrangements made with the Ministry.”</p>
<p>Well, must you go now?” She asked, visibly disappointed that her beau was leaving her as soon as they woke up.</p>
<p>“Yes, I have to,” he nodded, then searching for his wand. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“I understand.” Astoria spoke. “The Ministry is very important. So proud of you for still maintaining your job after all that Hogwarts talk.”</p>
<p>Draco looked over his shoulder at the thought and forced a smile, walking towards her and planting a kiss on her forehead.</p>
<p>“I’ll be back sometime later.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco came through the Floo Network to the familiar sitting area and dusted himself off. He wanted towards her office which was locked and dark. Down the hall where the familiar kitchen area was, was also locked and dark, to his dismay.</p>
<p>“Granger!” He called out into the empty building floor, and cursed to himself at the lack of a response. He wondered how it could be so that a witch such as Hermione was constantly keeping him on his toes. And as much of a hassle it proved to be, the more he hated to admit that he enjoyed it. Though, if there were any other place she could be, it was the unthinkable.</p>
<p>Malfoy grabbed a handful of the Floo powder and dropped it into the fireplace.</p>
<p>“Malfoy Manor!”</p>
<p>Draco was met with a coldness and quietness to his home, one most frightening. He hadn’t been alone in his childhood home for quite some time. In fact, he rarely found himself alone. If he were playing, it was always in his family’s company, which he used to be annoyed with. Yet, as he got older, the more he realized how creepy the estate could be, had he been alone.</p>
<p>He watched as two house elves came to his aid, telling him that his parents had gone to the Ministry for their weekly meeting, and politely dismissed them for the hour or so that he needed to find Granger. He wondered often why the manor was so big for just the three of them, as he grew up, and then figured it would only make sense because of what his father had gotten them into years ago. Having those type of guests over did warrant the need to provide ample living quarters, to which Draco grew disgusted.</p>
<p>Through the halls, Draco searched and searched for the witch, even whispering her name here and there while also keeping track on if anyone had come in through the Floo Network. Draco looked down at the note that he saved and narrowed his eyes. Was this just a trap of some sort? Was it Weasley who had found out and wanted to put him in his place? Nah, Weasley didn’t seem like that type, plus nothing was going on. Nothing. Well, a failed friendship but still nothing.</p>
<p>Draco walked past one of the windows near the front of the house and stopped when seeing someone standing out at the gates.</p>
<p>
  <em>Bloody fuckin’ hell. </em>
</p>
<p>Draco left out of the front doors, walking quickly to the gates, seeing Hermione standing there, a prominent frown on her face, paired with furrowed eyebrows. He hadn’t seen her pull this face since they were in Hogwarts. To tell you the truth, Draco didn’t really like it. He had been so used to seeing her smile and complimenting him on small things like a charmed diorama of the manor, that seeing her give push back was…oddly foreign, though still very familiar. He knew she meant business by being here. But, what did she want exactly? Draco knew that she wasn’t unfamiliar with being face-to-face with danger, but he had no idea that she was possibly mental.</p>
<p>“What the hell are you playing at? How long have you been here?”</p>
<p>“About forty-five minutes.” Hermione shrugged, looking away from him and then back in his direction.</p>
<p>“What if my parents had seen you?” Draco nearly shouted, looking her over.</p>
<p>“I’m not here for you or them, Malfoy. I would’ve been at the doors if it weren’t for the fact that I couldn’t apparate past the gate.”</p>
<p>Draco glanced up at the tall gates, silently grateful that his father was so set on bewitching them and the area around their house to prevent unwanted guests. He had done this just after the war, though it wasn’t like anyone willingly wanted to find themselves at Malfoy Manor.</p>
<p>“Tell me why you’re here.”</p>
<p>“Look, just let me through the gates and I’ll find my way around.”</p>
<p>“If I let you through the gates you have to explain to me why you’re here.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t until he had opened the gates for her that he realized she was avoiding all eye contact with him, walking side by side in reverent silence until they reached inside the manor. Hermione stood respectfully by his side, and the whole scene just felt unreal to him. Having Hermione here in Malfoy Manor felt just as wrong as it did years ago, though upon looking at her face, Draco couldn’t help but make the connection.</p>
<p>
  <em>She wasn’t here for…no…it couldn’t be. </em>
</p>
<p>“Where do you want to go?” Draco asked, his voice low and heavy, burning with both curiosity and caution. Except, Hermione didn’t answer. All she did was glide through the Manor and down the hall as though she were a chess piece being moved by something other than her own free will. Draco could only follow, as if she were guiding him on a tour of his own childhood home.</p>
<p>He stopped behind her as she stared in the doorway of the drawing room, analyzing it as if trying to determine if it were still safe, and took a few steps inside. Though he knew that this is where she was headed, Draco took his new place in the doorframe, fearing his own history attached to this part of the manor. Just staring at it, he could hear the shrill cries from Hermione and the disastrous laughter of his mad aunt. It didn’t feel right for him to be here. It didn’t feel right for Hermione to be here. His stomach twisted in a familiar fashion, equal to what he felt that night. He was sure he would possibly vomit again soon if the silence between them continued, but he snapped out of this feeling when hearing her talk.</p>
<p>“A bit smaller than I remember.” Hermione spoke out, her back to him as she stood in the center of the room. Draco had thought that once she spoke, he would hear a bit of sadness in her voice like that of when they fought. But no. It was a shocking calmness to her that sent an uneasy shiver down Malfoy’s spine. “I have had so many nightmares about this one room and this house. This room that has scarred me, labeling me as something I am not. And this house that has stolen so many innocent lives. And I’ve feared this place for so many years because it’s taken so much of my power away. This scar has taken my power away. And I know that I’m probably not going to plan your wedding anymore, nor will I probably ever see you again after all of this, but I had to come to terms with what happened. I have to…I have to move on from this.”</p>
<p>He watched from behind as she stood, revealing her scar to herself. From the doorway, he could hear her light sobs, much different from the ones back at her office. Draco cleared his throat a bit, feeling entirely too much for the witch in this difficult moment. She was struggling with the remnants and constant reminder of her past just like he was, and he hadn’t noticed that until it was too late, when she had probably started hating him yet again.</p>
<p>Draco forced himself into the drawing room and exhaled from how weak he felt in her presence. Hermione was wiping tears from her face when he came near and did the one thing that felt right to him in that moment. He brought the crying witch into him, feeling her grasp onto the back of his shirt for leverage through the hug, and took notice of his shirt that was now slightly damp from her tears.</p>
<p>“You didn’t deserve any of it,” Draco started. He swallowed some tears of his own, and even his pride, to open his mouth to bravely speak from his heart. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I really am. I’m sorry for it all. I should have done something, but I was so afraid.”</p>
<p>He felt Hermione nodding against him, soon pulling away from each other. Draco had expected an awkwardness now from the witch, whether it be an odd look of distrust or even more arguing than they did the weeks before. Yet, he got neither of that. Instead, when Draco looked into her eyes, he saw that they were tired. Tired from years of fighting, years of proving herself when people could hardly believe the greatest witch of their time were a Muggle-born. She was everything brilliant, all compacted into one.</p>
<p>“I realize that,” Hermione’s voice shaky and weak. “You didn’t have a choice. It was ‘do’ or ‘die’.” A single tear had fallen from Hermione’s eyes, and before the witch could wipe it from her cheeks, Draco found himself wiping it for her, an act that he could hardly believe that he had done.</p>
<p>“You know,” Draco started, swallowing hard as he looked at Hermione. “I uh…I got my Dark Mark when I was here. In this exact room. Nagini was staring at me like I was dinner, and I would’ve been if I had made any sound during the ceremony. Everyone looked so pleased to have had another legacy Death Eater in the mix, but I saw right through them. They were all scared. Of <em>him</em>. When I was younger, I had thought this was what I wanted. I wanted to make my father so proud. And then after it was all done, I was in pain. Physical and emotional pain. I was branded like cattle, and that’s when I knew I had made the mistake of showing interest in it when I was twelve. I hated it all. I hated watching those Muggles die, and I couldn’t carry out any of the tasks that I were given. But Voldemort knew how to keep us in line and turned us against each other. He made me hate my father. He made my mother fear me.”</p>
<p>He didn’t notice that he was crying until he felt Hermione’s soft hand grab his as they stood. A gesture, so simple and intimate, made him fear for the burning that returned in his chest. She was crying, too, but this time with a small smile. How incredible she had been to empathize with him, and still wear a smile that shown him it was alright. Even through the humbled gesture, Draco couldn’t remember himself ever crying over it. He was in more pain than anything back then and was more focused on not making his family look bad, or get killed.</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Hermione nodded. “You’re okay. <em>We’re </em>okay.”</p>
<p>The silence that was shared between the two of them grew intense, deeper, even. They looked at each other with a different level of understanding of who they were, and who they were not. The thought that had clearly encompassed his mind, framing his thoughts in the most damning way, was gone with just those few small, yet monumental, words. Draco knew in this moment, that somehow, Hermione Granger was important to him, and this feeling greeted him just as beautifully as it were confusing to him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Friends.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-- Hello friends! I hope your Thanksgiving is going well if you celebrate it wherever you are. With that being said, I tried to dig a bit deeper into some of the history of the drawing room for this chapter. As always, let me know what you think. Your comments, kudos, and the sort are always appreciated. Cheers!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione take a walk in Diagon Alley and find themselves in a bookstore, where Draco bumps into an old friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>  HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Ever since their moment together, Hermione couldn’t exactly place what she was feeling, considering there were so many emotions to be felt from that shared experience. She felt lifted, of course, having been bound by the pain that originated at Malfoy Manor. She no longer felt the heaviness in her chest, nor the unspoken uneasiness that she initially had whenever Draco would start to mention his childhood home. Though while there was healing that had been done, there will still healing left to go for both of them. Often, Hermione would feel guilty for not sharing in her experience with Ron, considering he noticed her positive shift in energy, she knew that if she had begun, he would question ‘how’ she had done it, and possibly even have her reconsider going back to work at the Ministry. For now, she thrived in the simplicity of only worrying about what she was going to wear to work the next morning or even how she could gain other clients. Yeah, intricate things could wait at the moment.</p><p>Just as she had began to focus on the picture of them both on her desk, smiling at photos from when she and Ron were so young, she heard the common swish coming from her sitting area. She turned her attention to her office door, watching as Draco invited himself in with typical Malfoy fashion. The man was quiet, as usual, and never really greeted her with a ‘hey’. He sort of just let his presence speak for himself. Had Hermione not known this wizard, she would think he were completely rude and abrasive, but the fact that he took a seat at her desk and began to eat his lunch, silently offering the other half of his sandwich to her, showed that he had some manners, even if unconventional. Hermione had grown used to Draco stopping by every now and then for lunch. Sometimes she would visit him, too, on her off times. It was convenient for her, being that Ron worked at the Ministry as well, despite a separate department.</p><p>Still, with Draco eating before her, Hermione only thought it was fair and polite to take a bite out of the sandwich he had offered her.</p><p>“Thanks,” Hermione spoke after a bite. Sometimes, she would notice how frequently they found themselves sitting in silence and occasional chats. Hermione never searched for a conversation with Draco, knowing that if one had come up, it would be all the better. But most of the time, she realized she valued his presence even if they weren’t talking to one another. “Draco?”</p><p>She watched the blonde man make eye contact with her and let out a stuffed “hmm” from a mouth full of his lunch.</p><p>“How well did your parents deal with the war?” She watched from across her desk as Draco swallowed his bite and shrugged his shoulders a bit, clearly taken back by the random question.</p><p>“Not well at all, really,” He spoke. “My father and I were pardoned for our involvements, of course. But that didn’t stop the Ministry from keeping their watchful eye on us, and even my mum for her silence, though it’s understood. They were placed on magical probation as regulated by the Ministry. In fact, they should be getting released from it soon. I’m sure Weasley’s probably told you about it.”</p><p>Hermione gently shook her head.</p><p>“He hasn’t.”</p><p>Draco looked the witch over, knowing there was always a motive behind every question asked with her, and spoke up.</p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I just wanted to know how your parents felt about the unwanted spotlight.”</p><p>“It’s not like they know, really. They haven’t been to town for a while, now. And it’s not that they live in fear. They just prefer not to be under such a judgmental eye,” Hermione smiled a bit, understanding. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days where she missed her folks terribly. “What do your parents think?”</p><p>“I don’t have any,” Hermione started, then paused. “I mean, I <em>do</em> have parents, they just don’t know that they have me.”</p><p>“What do you mean by that? Aren’t they alive and are teeth doctors or something?”</p><p>“<em>Dentists</em>,” Hermione corrected. “I obliviated their memories just before the war because if I died, I wouldn’t want them to bear that pain. And I came back for them, I truly did. But it was too late. It just didn’t feel right to force myself back into the lives they thought they were living. It just didn’t seem fair.”</p><p>“But did you try?”</p><p>“Of course I tried,” Hermione frowned. “The first time, I had been watching them from afar, and I had studied the spell for so long before I got the courage to just try it for myself. And when I did, I had walked up to their new house, knocked on the door, and just waited for them to recognize me. But they didn’t. Just a blank stare on their faces, wondering why I had knocked. I had to make up something quick, something so they wouldn’t think I was a complete nutter, and I told them I sold Avon.”</p><p>“Avon?”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” Hermione shook her head. “Either way, it was just a truly unbelievable experience. So, I just stopped trying to make it work. Part of me feels like they’re better off without me. Less complicated, too. Think they won’t be too happy with what I’ve done to them, I reckon.”</p><p>Draco slid away his sandwich and looked the girl over.</p><p>“I think that whoever is in your life is incredibly lucky to have you there.” Part of Hermione smiled a bit at this, though she was conflicted. She was relieved to hear that Draco hadn’t taken pity over what happened with her and her family, but she also wondered shamelessly if he included himself in that statement.</p><p>She glanced down at his sandwich, a bit impatient now and leaned forwards on her desk.</p><p>“Have you finished, yet?” She asked, referring to his lunch.</p><p>“You can have it if you—”</p><p>“Let’s go.” She stood, grabbing his hand and nearly ripping him from his seat.</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“Just walk with me.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>It felt strange walking the streets of Diagon Alley with Hermione. Despite their alliance and touching moment, he still felt on guard when around her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, neither was it that he didn’t want to be seen with her, but part of him wondered why it was so effortless for him to expose himself in that way to Hermione, of all people. He hadn’t even told Astoria how he got his Dark Mark. Still, he couldn’t help but admire at the way he and Hermione had come together to just…be. As much as it felt foreign, it felt nice. Genuinely nice.</p><p>Draco glanced at the quiet witch who had a soft smile on her face, just walking through the streets. She was so at peace with the quietness and serenity of the world. It was admirable.<em> She </em>was admirable. In the unusually sunny day, Draco could see the keen features on the witch’s pretty face. There was a small scar  on her left ear, right near the top. And her hair, thick and more tamed now than it was when they were younger, was slowly starting to frizz. In his analysis, he even noticed the twitch of her nose as an unknown body tickled it. She was pretty, he couldn’t deny it. Then, thoughts crossed him just as such. He remembered seeing Hermione during their eighth year, after the war. She was more reserved and poised, and despite their history of continuous banter and harsh words here and there, they never spoke. Not a single glance or stare. Not a word to be said, after what had occurred. That was when he truly realized she was pretty, though it wasn’t as if it were a hidden fact, but mostly a realization of it, then. He even dared to think that if he hadn’t grown up listening to his father’s bouts of prejudice, he could have possibly been friends with her. It would have been as nice to have her around then, just like it was nice to have her around, now.</p><p>“Where are we going?” Draco asked, curiosity consuming him as well as his time crunch.</p><p>“How long do you have before you go back to work?”</p><p>Draco glanced to a non-working clock and couldn’t help but feel grateful that he hadn’t a clue what time it was.</p><p>“I guess about thirty minutes or so.”</p><p>“So then what’s the rush?”</p><p>Hermione continued walking slightly ahead of him, through the streets. It wasn’t particularly crowded during the day, but then again it was around noon. Everyone was either at work or home, and many children had departed for Hogwarts just days ago. He was sort of glad for this. As much as he enjoyed his time out, in the back of his mind he wondered what would happen if Astoria, Daphne, or even their mother were to catch him and Hermione like this. Though their actions were purely innocent, he felt wrong sometimes for carrying on a friendship with her.</p><p>Draco stopped walking just as Hermione did, and looked at her. Her eyes had lit up incredibly at the sight of the shop in front of her. <em>Seers &amp; Readers. </em>Draco remembered crossing past this bookshop before on one of his walks and had started to tell Hermione that he’s stumbled upon it before but decided against ruining her fun. Clearly, she was excited to show him her favorite place, so he remained humble.</p><p>“This is one of my favorite bookshops,” Hermione spoke excitedly. “Once you step inside, a Seer reads your energy and based on what they see, they recommend certain books for you.”</p><p>Draco blinked, a mild smirk forming on his face.</p><p>“Last time I checked, Granger, you loathed the idea of Divination as much as I did.”</p><p>“I don’t particularly care for Divination, but I <em>do</em> care for books, and they’ve never missed before now come on!”</p><p>Hermione nearly dragged Draco inside the bookshop, a cosmic-themed feel to the store. At the front desk was a Seer, familiar in likeness to Professor Trelawney, who was looking them over. Draco watched as an odd smile grew on her face as she glanced from the two of them.</p><p>“W-w-welcome, you two,” She nodded, a shaky hand welcoming them in. “Nice to see you Miss Granger.”</p><p>“Alwa,” Hermione nodded. She turned around to introduce Draco, who was standing off to the side, a bit taken back by the thickness in energy of the store. Though there were only a few other patrons in the store with them, it felt crowded, like hundreds of people were browsing these shelves. “This is my friend, Draco.”</p><p>“A Malfoy,” Alwa whispered, beginning her glancing. “Miss Granger, may I read for you.”</p><p>“No, thank you, Alwa,” Hermione smirked. “Just a book, today, please.”</p><p>“Very well,” the Seer spoke. She closed her eyes for a moment, eventually her body rotating in a circle as she meditated. Hermione and Draco looked at each other, smiling temporarily at the theatrics, and like clockwork, Alwa’s eyes opened. “Aisle 14 ½ there is something for you. <em>Muggle Creatures And Their Magical Descendants</em>. You’ll need the ladder for that one, my dear. Should I give you another, or will you browse?”</p><p>“I’ll take the first one to start with, thank you.” Hermione smiled. Alwa wrote off a piece of parchment for her proper search of the book and turned her attention to Draco.</p><p>“Now, Mr. Malfoy, your book is located—”</p><p>“I’d rather not. I think I’ll browse for today.” Draco interrupted.</p><p>Alwa looked to Hermione for approval, who smile politely back and nodded towards a parchment.</p><p>“You can write it down, Alwa. Thank you.”</p><p>Hermione took the parchment for herself and began to study his chosen aisle as they walked away from Alwa. Draco rushed to her side and looked over her shoulder at the parchment, both curious and annoyed that he had gotten a read without fully knowing.</p><p>“I didn’t really want to be read.” Draco whispered.</p><p>“I know, but she’s really good,” Hermione whispered back. “And if she already read yours so quickly, then one can only assume that it’s pertaining to something you really enjoy or something you really need to hear…or read.”</p><p>Draco huffed a bit, but couldn’t deny that he was entirely intrigued at what book he would find.</p><p>“What’s the name of it?”</p><p>“It doesn’t say,” Hermione frowned, looking at the parchment. “All she did was write the aisle.”</p><p>Hermione handed his parchment over to him, and he took it in his hands. There, in rigid cursive, was a location.</p><p>
  <em>Aisle 3.</em>
</p><p> Draco frowned, confused. How was he supposed to know what he was looking for? What was the point of this place? Were they toying with him? He turned around to find Hermione who was scurrying off towards the other side of the bookstore, further than he would have liked her to be. Draco turned his attention back to Alwa, who was staring at him intently from the front of the store.</p><p>“You haven’t given me a title.”</p><p>“You’ll know when you find it.”</p><p><em>Unbelievable,</em> Draco scoffed as pushed the parchment deep into his pockets. He had originally thought the idea of the bookshop was clever, to have an assortment of books at their disposal, many of which that could be of use to them. But now, he just wasn’t so sure.</p><p>Draco stalked slowly to the aisle that was located near the bookshop windows, giving a nice warmth as he perused. He wasn’t necessarily sure how he would find<em> his</em> book in the sea of literature. There was so many to choose from the unorganized sort. In aisle three, he passed by books about magical creatures, odd cookbooks with Muggle recipes, autobiographies from famous wizards, and then some. There wasn’t a single ounce of order, and he wondered if that drove Hermione crazy as much as it thrilled her to be here.</p><p>Draco huffed to himself, ready to give up and find Hermione to suggest something else to do when they weren’t pressed for time and jumped at an older wizard rushing through his aisle with a stack of books. He was a short, stocky man with books towering over him, obstructing his vision as he walked.</p><p>“Make way, please.” The man spoke in a particularly rude tone, despite his politeness.</p><p>Draco, not wanting to cause a collision, quickly pressed himself against the aisle, the smell of old books filling his nostrils with delightful nostalgia. It made him think back to whenever he would go to the library and see Hermione there, studying. On one particular rainy afternoon when it seemed like it were just the two of them there, he had started making his way over towards her, ready to strike a few jabs at her, but when she saw him, she simply glared and removed herself from his presence. It didn’t make him feel good, then, but he knew now that it was all because of how he had treated her that warranted this reaction. He felt…bad. No one had ever known it, but that was the last time he decided to confront Hermione in that manner.</p><p>When the man passed by, Draco removed himself from against the books, and watched as one abruptly fell on its face, before his feet. The book was rather thin and the covers was burgundy with shiny pink swirls. It caught his eye, of course, and Draco wondered if this was his book. He bent down to pick it up, revealing the face to him, and reading the book carefully.</p><p>
  <em>A Seer’s Guide to The One. </em>
</p><p>Draco snorted, shaking his head at the discovery. Though he found it completely ridiculous to have stumbled upon something like this, he silently wondered if this was the book he was meant to find. He swallowed a bit, his stomach now heavy from the thought. It didn’t make sense. Clearly it was an accident. But as much as he didn’t believe in his fate lying in the book, he didn’t put it down, either. Instead, he flipped through the pages that glistened in the sun and landed on a random one near the middle.</p><p>
  <em>A part of a Seer’s duty, especially in today’s age, is to assist others in what they need to see. The guidance that a Seer gives is especially great, and therefore you, reader, are lucky. If you haven’t a Seer in your life and are inquiring about matters of the heart, then surely this guidebook will help you make an astonishing decision about your life and where it may be headed. Suppose you are a young witch, waiting for her beloved to notice her, or you are someone with an important decision between two people that you must make. Either way, what happens most of the time is that love finds us in the most unexpected ways, and sometimes right under our nose. But I can assure you that when you’ve found the person you are meant to spend the rest of your life with, when you know, you know. </em>
</p><p>“Draco?”</p><p>The young man jumped, slamming the book closed in his hands as he looked to the source of his name. There stood a young witch of the same age, watching him carefully with a small, genuine smile on her face. Her hair was cut in a small bob, quite fashionable for the time, and stood in complete shock at who he had seen.</p><p>Pansy Parkinson.</p><p>“H-hi,” Draco spoke, tucking the book under his arm as he leaned against the bookshelf. “Wow. Pansy.”</p><p>“I knew it was you,” She spoke, taking a step closer. The way she studied him were similar to the way one would study a rare and strange item, both cautious of its contents and equally as intrigued to know more. “I saw you through the window.”</p><p>“How are you?” Draco smiled, looking her over.</p><p>“Good, good. Things are well,” Pansy paused as another patron walked past them stopping in their aisle briefly and then carrying on to another aisle. “Just keeping a low profile, you know?”</p><p>Of course Draco knew. It was the only thing he wished he could do, but knew that having such a public job made that rather difficult.</p><p>“And have you heard anything from Blaise?”</p><p>Pansy shifted and looked down a bit at her shoes and then back to Draco.</p><p>“He’s good,” she nodded. “We just moved in together not too long ago.”</p><p>Draco shifted a bit, trying to maintain his composure. He hadn’t seen the witch in years. They had a rather nasty breakup just before the Battle at Hogwarts, and in his return to Hogwarts after that, he had heard word that Blaise and Pansy were dating. But that was then. Truthfully, Draco didn’t really care too much for them dating. He wasn’t a jilted ex or anything like that. But he did find it odd that his two friends had started dating and neither of them decided to tell him. It wasn’t a secret, but the fact that they treated it as such did turn him off to the idea of maintaining the friendship.</p><p>“Congrats on that.”</p><p>“And you on your engagement. Astoria’s quite the stunner.” Pansy put forth a genuine smile.</p><p>An awkward silence formed in place of the awkward, lackluster conversation between the witch and the wizard as they stood. Things were so different between them now. He once used to tell Pansy everything. Okay, well, maybe not everything, but he did share quite a bit with her when he felt it was safe for him to have said openness. Now, here she was, dating someone else and here he was, engaged to someone else. Their relationship was normally considered off again, on again. What does one expect when you’re so young? But, now, here she stood before him, without even a trace of remembrance towards any serious feelings for the witch. He wondered if that made him rather cold.</p><p>From his standpoint, Draco watched as Pansy looked down at her hands, then back at him. Her once bright eyes were now trickled with sadness and guilt.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry for not being open with you about me and Blaise. I should have told you, but you wouldn't return any of our owls.”</p><p>Draco knew he had been found out. For years he had purposely ignored owls from both Pansy and Blaise, clearly not interested in whatever it was they wanted to say. </p><p>“It’s not a big deal.” Draco looked off to the side a bit. “I get it.”</p><p>Pansy’s smile returned, hope reigning in her eyes.</p><p>“You know, you’re welcome to come over or even send an owl anytime you want,” Draco’s eyes narrowed, a bit suspicious of her sudden niceness. He had dealt with Pansy during their time at Hogwarts, but rarely did he know her to be nice to anyone she wasn’t interested in romantically. “I think Blaise would want to reconnect with you, too.”</p><p>“Sure.” Though not entirely thrilled by the idea, Draco thought it would be easier right now to just comply. In the thinning silence, Draco watched as her eyes trailed to the book under his arm, cocking her head as though trying to read the spine.</p><p>“It’s surprising that I’d catch you in here,” She spoke softly. “Didn’t really peg you as the bookish type after all these years.”</p><p>Draco smirked a bit and had started to open his mouth to say something before hearing excited footsteps approaching behind him.</p><p>“Draco, you’ll never believe what I found!” Hermione spoke, coming around the corner and bringing herself in full sight of Pansy as she clutched about seven books. Draco watched with frantic heartbeats as the two girls eyed each other. He remembered the times Pansy had been harsh to Hermione, just as he had in his old days. But the way the two women stared at each other, it’s as if they were back in Hogwarts again, with Pansy ready to rile Hermione up about her teeth, and with Hermione on defense. But instead of any words, Pansy sported a smug smile on her face, as though she had just unveiled the juiciest secret, and turned back to Draco.</p><p>“I apologize if I’ve interrupted,” Pansy eyed Hermione up and down before turning her full attention to her former friend. “I think it’s best I get going. It was nice catching up with you, Draco.” She smiled, glancing at Hermione one last time, before turning away and heading out.</p><p>The pair watched as she left the bookshop and Hermione came to Draco’s side, clutching her literature finds.</p><p>“Was that…”</p><p>“Pansy,” Draco nodded.</p><p>“Why was she looking at us like that?”</p><p>Draco was secretly wondering the same thing and had to wonder how it looked from an outsiders perspective. Here was Draco, engaged to Astoria and set to have the wedding of all weddings as he spent time in a bookshop with another woman. Even if he explained to Pansy that Hermione was his enemy turned planner turned friend, it wouldn’t stop the speculating look that she bore on her face. Draco wanted to hide how defeated he felt, knowing that Pansy and Daphne had been close once before, and silently accepted his fate for what it was. He knew that deep down, if Astoria found out about this, heads would roll. But he also knew that as an adult, he could spend his time with whomever he wanted, considering it was just platonic.</p><p>“I think that’s just her face,” Draco joked, causing Hermione to laugh as he tried to lighten the mood.</p><p>Hermione looked at Draco who was still concealing the book under his arm and attempted to reach for it.</p><p>“Found something?”</p><p>“Not really.” Draco shook his head nonchalantly.</p><p>“Then what’s that?” Hermione smirked, motioning towards the book.</p><p>“Oh, it was just nothing. Pansy handed it off to me as a joke, or something.” He shrugged, shoving the book into a random spot in between other literature, and looked at Hermione’s stack.</p><p>“Looks like you got yourself a complete set.” He spoke, desperately trying to change the subject. He knew that if he had dug any further into the book and its contents, Hermione would try to search for the deeper meaning of it all, instead of accepting it for what the book truly was. Rubbish. Except, Draco couldn’t get over the same thing his father once told him that happened to appear in the book.</p><p>
  <em>When you know, you know.</em>
</p><p>He watched Hermione happily go on and on about her finds, showing him all seven of the books, all from authors that he’s heard of that were brilliant wizards and witches, alike. But the one thing that stood out to him, was a thicker book, unlike her informative, autobiographical selection.</p><p>“Pride and Prejudice,” Hermione smiled. “It was one of my favorite books, growing up, and I never got it from my parents’ house before I…you know.”</p><p>“I’m surprised they have it.” Draco spoke, studying the book carefully.</p><p>“I know. Muggle books don’t really go for much here, but I guess it got lost in their array.”</p><p>Draco followed Hermione to the front of the store and caught a glimpse of the time on the wall clock.</p><p>“Fuck,” Draco cursed, receiving stunned looks from both Hermione and Alwa. “I have to get going.”</p><p>“What? Already?” Hermione asked, her voice a bit peeved at their lack of time.</p><p>“If I want to keep my job, then yes.” Draco grinned at her. Hermione thought for a moment and looked at Alwa.</p><p>“Would you mind putting these on hold for me? I’ll come by sometime soon to get them.”</p><p>“You don’t have to do that.” Draco spoke.</p><p> “A bit much to carry with me anyways. I’ll pick them up in sequence.” She smirked.</p><p>The pair walked out of the bookshop and traveled down the street, thoughts of the book still lingering on his mind. He had started to lose some faith in his friend’s most trusted bookshop. It was wrong. He was promised a book, and all he got was something he didn’t even think was worth reading, despite the fact he already did. And by doing so, he was now left with the remnants of this in his mind. Silently, Draco figured that the next time he and Hermione were set on doing something in town, it would be his call on where to go.</p><p>“Can I ask you a personal question?” Hermione perked up out of the blue of their silence.</p><p>Draco snickered a bit to himself and looked at her.</p><p>“Why do I feel like you’ll ask even if I say ‘no’?”</p><p>Hermione grinned and looked up at him, her eyes glistening in the sun. Draco attempted to swallow away the lump in his throat that he got from looking into them, but found it fruitless, at best. Jeez, she was striking, especially in the daylight.</p><p>“How did you know you wanted to marry Astoria?”</p><p>Draco paused momentarily, a sudden thought crossing over him. He had wondered if Hermione caught a glimpse of the book he had held back in the shop, or wondered if her frequency in the shop warranted her to know every single book that they had on hand, but still, that didn’t make sense. Instead, he realized that it was definitely a personal question, and he took that into consideration even with his answer.</p><p>“I didn’t.”</p><p>He watched Hermione’s expression change, her smile falling as she struggled with his response. This must have been hard for her, their wedding planner, to hear.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“It’s a long, complicated story about how it happened. I’d have to tell you when I’m not pressed for time.” He nudged.</p><p>“Just remember, you agreed to come with me.” Hermione nudged back.</p><p>“Why do you ask, though?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I guess I just…I guess I was just curious. It’s been one of those nagging questions that I’ve had.”</p><p>Draco wondered what type of relationship Hermione had with Weasley, and realized they never really talked about their relationships with their partners. Astoria was only mentioned, seriously, when doing wedding planning, but when they were out together, whether it be sharing a cup of tea on his lunch hour, or perusing old novel classics, they strayed far from relationships. Though it was strange, as friends, to know very little on the other’s relationships, Draco liked it that way. It was one of few times he felt he could actually be himself, without worrying about growing guest lists and color schemes.</p><p>The two slowed their walk, nearing the large building that held Hermione’s office among others, and looked at one another. Draco still wasn’t sure how to leave her. Coming to her was the easy part, but their good-byes would often feel so unfinished to him.</p><p>“Oh! Before you go!” Hermione rummaged through her bag for a moment, and then stopped once retrieving it. There in her hands lay a miniature, animated knickknack of Draco and Astoria. It was bewitched, and the two stood together on a flat surface, hugging, then smiling, then doing both as small pinks hearts erupted above the two.</p><p>“What is it?” Draco asked, taking it in his hands as he studied the funny item.</p><p>“It’s a wedding cake topper,” She started. “George’s shop still makes little tokens like this and I thought of you. Then I thought of Astoria and figured it was the perfect gift. Do you like it?”</p><p>Draco tried his best not to frown at the gift, but instead remained neutrally divided on if he did or didn’t like it. He surely appreciated the gesture, but something didn’t feel right about what he held in his hands.</p><p>“Thank you.” Draco merely smiled at her, then turning his attention back to the knickknack. He watched as Hermione gave a brief wave to him and apparated up to her office. While alone, Draco fought himself on what was the correct way to feel. Yes, he was grateful, but seeing him and Astoria in this way just didn’t feel right. Not in the sense that he didn’t like the gift, itself, but it had started to feel more real to him. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top as he had started to grow hot. With one final thought of Hermione, Draco placed the gift into his pockets and apparated back to the Ministry.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello hello! Hope you dashing lovelies are doing alright. New chapter in the works of being edited and possibly released on 11/30. Stay tuned, and as always, thanks for keeping up with me and SOSN!!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione celebrates her birthday and Draco grows paranoid that they're being watched.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The Leaky Cauldron was cozy and oddly quiet for a Sunday, just the perfect amount of intimate for the two gentlemen to catch up. It had been six years since they last saw each other. Such time has gone by between the two of them. Lost, unspoken words about the unannounced ending of a friendship. But the more Draco thought of it, the more he realized he and Blaise never were really friendly. If anything, they were more or less cordial, willingly driving the other nuts with their jabs and snide remarks. Though their relationship was nothing compared to his and Granger’s, it was in its own way, still something that Draco had valued having in his life. And to be face-to-face with the wizard after so long, Draco didn’t want to admit that he was slightly nervous at their reunion.</p><p>Draco tapped the table impatiently, watching as one of the hostesses waved her wand, their butterbeers coming to their table a bit faster than expected. Draco looked past Blaise’s shoulder to see her staring, grinning at them, and even giving a flirtatious wink once the jugs landed on their tables. He focused his attention back to the man in front of him who was already holding his pint and held it up for Draco to meet him with a cheer. As their jugs collided, some liquid spilling out onto the table, Blaise watched as Draco chugged part of his, leaving his pint half of what it was.</p><p>Blaise, after taking a few gulps, looked at Draco with a smirk.</p><p>“Didn’t take you to be a drinker, now.”</p><p>Draco wanted to ignore the comment. He recalled times when he and Blaise would frequent Hogsmeade, taking small sips of his drink instead of chugging it, as he did just now. The old Draco would recall such an act as ‘improper’ and ‘lowly’. In fact, Draco hardly wanted to be seen in pubs just a few years ago. But today, he didn’t care. More than anything, he wanted to stray away from what he had grown used to.</p><p>“I drink, so what?” Draco shrugged, looking off to the side. He could feel Blaise staring at him, but he felt that eye contact in this context was unnecessary.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Draco,” Blaise spoke in a soft, reverent voice. This caught Draco off guard, almost tugging on a nerve. The corners of the blond man’s mouth twitched as he turned to face the wizard before him. “About Pansy and I.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Draco spoke.</p><p>“But we hid it from you. And after a while we realized how deceitful that would have come off. Pansy didn’t just lose a friend, I lost one, too.”</p><p>Draco searched the man’s eyes for any sort of smugness or deception but couldn’t find any. He was sorry, and Draco could feel that. Though, sitting here listening to Blaise apologize to him was a bit uncomfortable to say the least, there was no doubt in his mind that he appreciated where it was coming from.</p><p>“Well then,” Draco spoke, picking up his jug again and holding it in the air. “To Pansy for seeking me out in that bookstore, last week.”</p><p>Blaise smirked at this and followed suit with his action before placing his jug back down on the table.</p><p>“We’ve been so busy with moving and everything. I saw that you were getting married in the papers a bit ago, and I meant to send an owl. I just really have been busy. Mostly with Pansy.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.</p><p>Blaise leaned back comfortably in his seat, his hands now resting behind his head. Draco remembered why he had gravitated towards Blaise in the first place. Blaise was…cool. He hardly showed that he cared about anything, to the point he wondered how he and Pansy could possibly get on so well.</p><p>“Well, you know, she’s kind of needy.”</p><p>Draco snickered a bit and looked up at his old friend.</p><p>“Needy is good, no?”</p><p>“It can be,” Blaise nodded. “But being able to breathe would be nice.”</p><p>“Breathing? Who needs that?” Draco lightly joked, downing the rest of his beer.</p><p>“Easy for you to say. You got Astoria. Beauty, brains, charisma. Quite the powerhouse if you ask me,” Blaise then remembered what he was saying. “Not that Pansy isn’t any of those things.”</p><p>Draco sighed softly to himself. Why was it that whenever people brought up their relationship, they never failed to remind Draco that he was lucky to have Astoria, and not that they were lucky to have each other? This was precisely why he didn’t enjoy talking about wedding planning when he didn’t have to.</p><p>“I reckon she is. It’s just…” Draco had started to speak his mind, though stopped upon feeling like he was exposing too much. He looked Blaise over who was looking at him, fixating on his silent expressions. Draco knew that Blaise was reading him, trying to dig deeper without himself saying a word. “Forget it.”</p><p>“Speak up, you git.” Blaise teased, though when noticing Draco wasn’t going to, he turned around to the hostess. “Four fire whiskey’s, love!”</p><p>“Four?” Draco asked, shocked. He only ever drank wine and the occasional butter beer, but nothing as strong as whiskey.</p><p>“Relax, it won’t kill ya. And I promise you’ll still wake up for work tomorrow,” Blaise grinned. Soon, the shot glasses made their way over to the two men. Blaise downed both of his without problem, while Draco watched in awe. He looked down cautiously at his glasses and then back at Blaise who egged him on with a mischievous smile. Draco lifted the first shot to his mouth, tossing it back and then pausing at the burning he felt in his stomach. Blaise slowly slid the second shot over to Draco, mischievously influencing the man who took it with shaky hands and tossed it back, just as he did the first one. “Now speak.”</p><p>Draco’s face twisted at the taste of the liquor and covered his mouth a bit.</p><p>“Can we get something to eat first, bloody hell.”</p><p>Blaise started to laugh and shook his head.</p><p>“Speak now, food later.” He assured. Draco looked around the bar, as though fearing that someone other than Blaise would hear him.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Draco started, genuine confusion crossing over as the alcohol had begun to mix within him. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m making the right choice.”</p><p>“Oh, so you have choices.”</p><p>“That’s not what I mean,” Draco shook his head, holding it gently in his hands. “I don’t really know what I mean, anymore.”</p><p>“Honestly, mate,” Blaise started. He stood up, towering over Draco as he spoke. “I think you’re just having cold wand. Only the most passionate, empathetic blokes have it when they don’t want to hurt the other person. Never thought I’d say that to <em>you</em>, though.”</p><p>Blaise flashed Draco a toothy grin and walked off to the loo, leaving Draco to sit with his thoughts. Was he getting cold wand as the wedding neared? September was almost over and here he was, doubting his relationship with Astoria. The more he mulled over if it were the right choice, the more irritated he became. This didn’t feel right. In wedding planning, you may be stressed but not…confused.</p><p>The door to the Leaky Cauldron came open, and he sat for a moment, wondering if he were seeing a ghost or not. Hermione trotted in, a small smile on her face. She was alone and took a seat far off from where he and Blaise were. She was positioned perfectly, facing Draco, but not seeing him through the other guests that were sitting about. He was silently grateful for not being in her full line of view and wondered why she were alone. She looked beautiful, though, there was no doubt about it. Her hair was up in a curly ponytail, and she appeared to have a glow about her. Though, just as he decided to stand up and greet the young witch, he watched as Potter, Weasley and his sister came into the pub shortly thereafter.</p><p>Draco slumped in his seat a bit, not wanting to be seen by any of them now, and simply watched from his position. Maybe they were just having a time out. No harm in that, right? But he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so intrigued. He figured it was because he hadn’t seen her out like this before. They only ever met up at her office now and then for lunch, often outside roaming Diagon Alley, but never in as relaxed of a setting as this was.</p><p>It wasn’t until Blaise had come back into his seat that he realized he had been staring at the witch and her entourage.</p><p>“You alright, mate?” Blaise spoke, looking his friend over.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah I’m alright.” Draco spoke, though momentarily turning back to glance at Hermione. She looked so thrilled with everyone around her, and he could only wish he knew they would end up in the same place. To Draco, it really set in that even though they are friends, they’re still not as close as she were with Potter and the others. And on top of that, possible outings with just the two of them would be seen as strange on both of their behalf. Draco seen out with a woman that wasn’t Astoria? Especially with their wedding in the papers? One could only imagine the rift that would cause.</p><p>“So, you got cold wand,” Blaise picked up the conversation.</p><p>“Huh?” Draco perked up, then resonated on what he said. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe?”</p><p>“When are you gonna tell her?”</p><p>“Tell who?”</p><p>“Astoria, of course. Are you insane?”</p><p>“Why would I tell her that? I don’t want to ruin this for her.”</p><p>“So you’d rather let her have the wedding of her dreams with the man that she loves, and keep quiet about this until death do you part? Come on, be sensible, man.”</p><p>The words from the bookstore came ringing back into his head. <em>When you know, you know.</em> But what happens when you don’t?</p><p>“Maybe it’s all just happening so soon. I mean, we only got engaged in June.”</p><p>“Five months for a wedding is not bad. You’re just stalling.”</p><p>“I’m not stalling.”</p><p>“Sorry, biding your time.” Blaise spoke sarcastically, holding his hands up for pretend remorse. “Weddings and marriage are a sham, anyways. You meet someone, you say ‘I do’, even when sometimes you don’t, and you’re stuck growing old with the same person forever, for the rest of your life. I tell ya, before you get married,<em> if</em> you get married, whip up some Polyjuice Potion and get some hairs from an old fling or two. Now that, my friend, is how I can only see marriage playing out for me.”</p><p>“You’re sick, you know that?”</p><p>“A sick genius, thank you very much,”</p><p>Draco wasn’t sure if it were the alcohol in Blaise’s system that was seeing him as his target, but he didn’t enjoy being in the spotlight like this. He didn’t want to be interrogated, especially not with so much booze absorbing within him. He feared that if a good thirty minutes were to pass, he’d air out every thought and feeling to Blaise. He couldn’t let that happen. Draco let out a small hiccup and grabbed his mug, looking for a drink but only seeing droplets. He needed a way to divert the conversation away from the wedding.</p><p>“I’m thinking about this position that just opened up.”</p><p>“Nice,” Blaise grinned, leaning forward. “Trying to move up from Shacklebolts’ Junior Assistant to his Advisor?”</p><p>Draco looked down at his own hands, pale and bare of any rings, which he knew would soon change for him. Everything would soon change for him. He had gotten the job initially because of his father’s exceptional work at the Ministry before the war and by way of non-traditional begging for his son’s future to a former secretary who, surprisingly, heard Malfoy out. Even afterwards, Shacklebolt was still kind enough to consider Draco for the position, and indeed hired him. But Draco still felt that to this day, Shacklebolt only hired him because he wanted to keep a close eye on the youngest Malfoy, just as he did with his parents.</p><p>“It’s at Hogwarts,” Draco started. “They need a Potions professor starting next August.”</p><p>“Blimey,” Blaise spoke, a puzzled look on his face. “Do you…do you think they’ll…I mean, do you think this is what you want.”</p><p>“It could be, but I’ll never know until I find out, if they’ll let me.”</p><p>“Well damn, mate. I’m happy for your interests. Took me off guard a bit, not going to lie, but I’m proud of you.”</p><p>Draco smiled genuinely, feeling good to be back in the presence of a familiar soul, and immediately stopped when hearing celebratory cheers from a table across the way. From where Draco sat, he watched as a pink, frosted cake made its way slowly to Hermione’s table, with those all around her erupting in an out of tune symphony.</p><p>It was her birthday.</p><p>Draco almost felt bad for not knowing but felt even worse that she hadn’t told him. Did she not celebrate her birthday? Did she expect this to happen? He watched as her eyes lit up from the candles, blowing them out in one go. For a brief moment, Draco had forgotten that he wasn’t in the pub alone and that Blaise possibly caught on to his staring.</p><p>“Holy shit, is that Granger?” Blaise exclaimed, though when noticing that Draco hadn’t responded, he turned to the blond across from him who was staring intently at the witch along the way. Something inside Blaise tingled, sending a weird sensation to his chest. From where he sat, he made a point to study every single part of Draco that was consumed in the girl’s birthday wishes, from longing eyes to a small smile that nestled in the corner of his mouth. Draco, feeling Blaise’s stare, turned to him, seeing him searching once again for some sort of explanation in his quietness. “Apparently she’s a wedding planner or whatever it’s called. I swear, with her power she’ll be bringing more and more Muggle cultural phenomena to our world. Maybe even a bed and breakfast for select Muggles to visit.”</p><p>“She’s just doing her job. And she’s very good at it, I hear.” Draco spoke, nearly into himself. The silence between the two men grew and Blaise, like he did throughout most of their time today, leaned forward towards him from across the table.</p><p>“You’re being weird.”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> being weird.” Draco shot back.</p><p>“Pansy told me she saw you and Granger at a bookstore,” Blaise spoke. When not generating a response from Draco, he slammed his hands on the table, not from anger, but wanting to see some form of emotion come from him. Truthfully, Draco had chosen occlumency to prepare for Blaise’s unending questions. “Together!”</p><p>“She’s my wedding planner.”</p><p>“But…you were in a bookshop. Casually.”</p><p>“She’s also kind of helping me find a gift for Astoria. Nothing more, nothing less.”</p><p>“Then why didn’t you just say that?”</p><p>“Because I didn’t want too many others knowing too much detail about the wedding. It’s bad enough there’re over 200 guests.”</p><p>“I didn’t even know you knew 200 people.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Draco said coldly. He turned his attention back to Hermione’s party, seeing Harry standing over his friends, cutting the cake up in slices for them all. Though the alcohol had started to kick in, Draco was coherent enough to notice Weasley place his arm around Hermione, pulling her close to him. His heart began to beat rapidly at the action, like he were watching something forbidden and only to be seen by the two of them. His eyes squinted as he saw Weasley lean down towards Hermione, planting a small kiss on her lips. For some reason, a reason he hadn’t yet identified, Draco felt the blood rush from his face as he stared on, then whipped his face back to Blaise who was staring at him, trivial and confused as to why Draco’s expressions dared to be seen as emotional. Draco pushed himself up from his seat at the table and hitched a sharp breath, certain now that his occlumency had ceased.</p><p>“Let’s get out of here.” Draco half-ordered, and tossed a few galleons on the table, rushing out one of the side exits.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>It felt nice to be outside, sitting somewhere quiet and calm with Draco without feeling like all eyes were on them, questioning their every move. Draco had explained to her a few days back that Pansy mentioned seeing the both of them at the bookshop, and that Blaise questioned their whereabouts. It initially stunned her that they had been seen, but Hermione wasn’t willing to turn down a friendship for the sake of outsider perception. Though, had it been Ginny or any other close-knit Gryffindor, she knew she probably wouldn’t have been so calm. So, their friendship rested now in two safe places. 1. Hermione’s office and 2. The Three Broomsticks.</p><p>Being back at Hogsmeade reminded her of her days there. She loved it when the weather had just started to gather that chill in the air, and loved it even more in the winter time. But now, she loved it because she felt she could actually hold some sort of difference to their usual routine.</p><p>From across her, Draco sat, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wooden table, looking everywhere but where she was. She wondered why there was something different about him and instead, picked up her hot chocolate and took a sip.</p><p>“What’s going on in your head?” Hermione asked after a refreshing sip, watching her friend locate her eyes and smile faintly.</p><p>“Nothing, I just—”</p><p>“Nobody can see us,” Hermione assured, then felt herself blushing at her own statement. “Not that we’re doing anything wrong, you know.”</p><p>She watched Draco think for a moment, his eyes resting on his hands and then back at the kind witch.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up?”</p><p>“How did you know about it?” Hermione asked, neither annoyed nor surprised that he had figured it out, but rather curious.</p><p>“I was with Blaise at the Leaky Cauldron when you walked in.”</p><p>Hermione had started to ask why he hadn’t come over to say ‘hello’ or ‘happy birthday’, but realized that their friendship was still a secret from the people they cared for most in their lives. Instead of asking more questions about how his reconnection with Blaise had gone, she had grown sad from the thought.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Draco asked, curious about her shift in mood.</p><p>“I’m just wondering if I should have brought you over for cake or something.”</p><p>“Need I remind you that Weasley and his sister think I’m the scum of the Earth, and Potter is completely indifferent to me?”</p><p>“Ron doesn’t hate you,” She started, though seeing his unamused expression, she sighed a bit. “Okay fine, he hates you, but he would try to stop if I asked him to.”</p><p>“Why would you even ask him to?”</p><p>“Because maybe I’d want to have all my friends with me instead of sneaking around to different towns and hiding in my office, all the time.”</p><p>Draco looked down, contemplating the thought himself, though they both knew that would probably never happen. Draco was too on guard around them all, despite making amends with Harry before any of them. Hermione knew that deep down, no matter how much she would have wanted Draco to celebrate her birthday with her, it probably wouldn’t happen until she explained to Ron, from the beginning, that Draco was no longer this vile creature to her, anymore.</p><p>“I got you something.” Draco smirked a bit, clearly ignoring her statement to focus on why he really invited her out, and let a thick book lay wrapped in pretty navy-blue wrapping paper. Hermione grinned to herself, grabbing for the book in the clumsiest effort to see its title, and paused after breaking it free from its decorative coverings.</p><p>
  <em>Pride &amp; Prejudice. </em>
</p><p>Hermione gasped a bit, unsure of what to say in this moment. The book of her childhood was back in her shaky hands, ready to be read and revisited. And as beautiful as the gift of literature was to her, it was so much more to the young woman. It was a part of her childhood that she loved to remember.</p><p>“Do you not like it? I got a copy for myself, too, just to see what type of fuss you were making about it. If it’s too much I can return it. Alwa handed it over so if anything be mad at her if—”</p><p>“Shh,” Hermione hushed him, gathering a shocked expression from his face. She could hardly make out the rest of her words that forced their way out in a shaky breath. “It’s perfect.”</p><p>Unbeknownst to Hermione, in that moment, that was the first time in months that Draco had heard the word <em>‘perfect’</em> being used in absolute perfect context.</p><p>Hermione wiped away a stray tear and got up from her seat, her arms wide open as she stood near their table.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Draco asked, nervous from her action.</p><p>“Give me a hug.”</p><p>“Why? I don’t need one of those. I’m fine.”</p><p>“Draco, just come here.” Hermione said, her voice full of longing and the need to express her gratitude. She watched in sheer amusement as Draco groaned, getting up from his seat and hugging the young witch. Through the hug, as Hermione held onto the man tightly, Draco could’ve sworn he heard the flash of a camera go off, alerting him to break their hug. He stood tall, scanning the pub for anyone with a camera, though noticing that none of the other patrons were paying them any mind. He had started to ask Hermione if she heard it too but decided against it. Besides, not being seen or having to worry about any familiar faces was too good to let go of so soon. The last thing he wanted to do was pass off his paranoia to her. Though Hermione, who was satisfied with the brief embrace she received from him, smirked once noticing the red tint growing at his cheeks. He was embarrassed, and it was rather fun to witness.</p><p>“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”</p><p>“Possibly the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.” He teased her, an attractive and sarcastic smile growing on his face.</p><p>“Oh really,” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Not even being transfigured into a weasel. Or was it a ferret?”</p><p>“Ouch,” Draco shook his head as he laughed. It wasn’t until now that Hermione realized she truly appreciated having Draco in her life. Even if it were an odd friendship formed from the most absurd ways, she knew that he was someone special in her life. She took this moment to dawn on her favorite features of hers; his smile. The stray hairs of his mustache curled upwards in the corners of his mouth with his grin. Hermione realized she had let herself get lost in those same thoughts that she had just before their big fight, and nearly shook her head to rid herself of such unprofessionalism. Draco Malfoy was her <em>engaged</em> client, and at most, he was her friend. But why did she find herself looking forward to their conversations? And why did she analyze him in the way that she did?</p><p>“So, uh, any changes to the wedding? Did Astoria happen to find a dress?”</p><p>Draco groaned, rolling his eyes at the question and then reached forward to place his cold hands over Hermione’s warm ones.</p><p>“No wedding talk outside the office, deal?”</p><p>Hermione looked down for a moment, this time feeling herself blush, and looked back into his eyes, nodding.</p><p>“Deal.”</p><p>“But I did want to ask if you were open to decorating select parts of the Ministry. Shacklebolt loves a good theme every now and then, but especially on Halloween. He’s trying to throw a soiree or whatever.”</p><p>“You sound so excited for it.” Hermione giggled.</p><p>She watched Draco smirk as he looked her over.</p><p>“Just want to see what you can do before you make a mess out of this wedding.”</p><p>Hermione crumbled up her unused napkin and tossed it at him quickly, hitting him square on the chin, making him flinch.</p><p>“I didn’t deserve that, you know.” Draco smiled playfully eyeing the witch carefully from his seat, now on guard for any other incoming utensils or restaurant items that could possibly be used against them. Though the one thing that lingered on his mind was the idea that he had sworn he heard the shutter letting him know that a photograph was taken, even though there wasn’t anyone visible to him that he had seen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello! Here's Monday's post, as planned! I do hope you like it. I'm anticipating the next chapter to come out either later today or tomorrow. Stay tuned. Kisses!!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Astoria struggles with Draco's odd behavior, and Ron has a few choice words when face-to-face with Draco while at work.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>OCTOBER</strong>
</p><p> <strong>ASTORIA</strong></p><p>
  
</p><p>There was a loud crumble of parchment paper in the middle of the night that drew Astoria awake in her dark bedroom. The rain outside their window poured angrily, trees blowing and creating the perfect storm. Astoria loved the rain but hated being in it, of course. There was something calming about it, though. To know that the Earth had cleansed itself once again of all things vile to make space as the sun would shine towards a new day. A new feeling.</p><p>Waking up, it took Astoria a brief moment to realize that her fiancé was no longer laying in bed next to her like how she had originally fallen asleep with him. No, instead he was at his writing desk, Lumos illuminating his area slightly as he focused on something before him. Astoria rubbed her eyes, trying her hardest not to make a sound, hoping she would continue catching Draco in his element before he could stop himself. And so, getting to her feet, Astoria made her way across the room, and peered over Draco’s shoulder.</p><p>“What are you doing, Draco Malfoy?”</p><p>Astoria watched as Draco jumped, closing the book quickly before him and covering it slightly with his free hand. In his startled action, he gently grazed the stack of unsent invitations that was on his writing desk. It was as though he hadn’t even seen them.</p><p>“You scared me,” He spoke, still taken off guard. “I was…just reading a book.”</p><p>Astoria narrowed her eyes and glanced at their wall clock.</p><p>“You do realize it’s three in the morning, don’t you?”</p><p>“I couldn’t sleep,” Draco frowned. “I decided on a bit of light reading, hoping it would get me tired.”</p><p>Astoria’s eyes peered at the book, taking it slowly in her hands as she read the cover.</p><p>“Pride and Prejudice,” She asked, looking the book over. “This is a Muggle book.”</p><p>“I hadn’t realized until I bought it. I went to that bookshop where the Seers give you their suggestions and—"</p><p>“They suggested a Muggle book…to <em>you</em>?”</p><p>Draco sighed a bit, taking it gently from her hands and placing it back on his desk.</p><p>“It’s just a book, Astoria.”</p><p>“But it’s a Muggle book,” Astoria insisted. She sat on the edge of his desk, studying her fiancé in the dark. “Part of why I chose to marry you was because of you and your family’s values. You were more…traditional than other witches and wizards, and my family values that as much as I do. I just don’t see why this would be something you would purchase, out of all the hundreds, maybe even thousands of books that they have in the store.”</p><p>Draco stood up quickly, walking towards their bedroom door, though Astoria closed it just before he could reach it. Draco sighed and turned around, looking at his fiancé with all the fervor of someone growing increasingly irritated.</p><p>“I was going to the bathroom! What’s the matter?”</p><p>Astoria could feel her heart racing from his reaction. She didn’t want to start a fight in the middle of the night, but what else was she to do to get some sort of emotion out of him after he’s been so distant for quite a while, now.</p><p>“I just told you!”</p><p>“I don’t know what you want me to say, Astoria! It’s a book! I liked the excerpt! I bought it!”</p><p>“Did <em>she</em> give it to you?”</p><p>An off-putting silence crept across the bedroom, causing Draco to shake his head at her accusations. He moved from his position by the bedroom door to the foot of the bed as he sat. His constant need to move proved his anxiety to Astoria, who continued to sit on his desk. She knew she was waiting in vain for an answer from him, knowing she wouldn’t get the one that she wanted. But she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt to see if he would, for once, let her in on what went on in that head of his.</p><p>“I genuinely bought the book for myself. I have not done any wedding planning without you. I swear to it.”</p><p>Astoria sat on the bed next to him, this time tears stinging her eyes as she looked at him through blurred vision. He wasn’t understanding her. She wasn’t understanding him.</p><p>“In the morning, I’m supposed to go out with Daphne and my mother to find a wedding dress. A w<em>edding dress</em>,” Astoria admitted through shaky breath. “And here I am, sitting in the dark in more ways than one, questioning if you’re even the same person who asked me for my hand those few months ago.”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>“Because you’re thinking of giving up such a good job, and you’re reading Muggle books and becoming friends with Hermione Granger and—”</p><p>“Relax, relax,” Draco spoke, his voice in the softest whisper that tamed her wild thoughts. “Everything is okay.”</p><p>Astoria relaxed fully when being pulled into Draco’s embrace as they sat in the dark, nothing but the rain to speak for them. There was so much that Astoria had on her mind. From down to making sure their wedding was planned exactly how it needed to be, to small details that would add special touches and point to their couple styles. But, in the midst of mental wedding planning, she looked up and met his eyes.</p><p>“If there’s ever any doubt in your mind, Draco, you need to tell me.”</p><p>She had originally waited for Draco to respond with annoyance, whether it be with an eye roll or suck of his teeth, but was glad to see him smile, nodding in agreement about her pleas. She wasn’t asking for much. She just wanted communication, especially as their wedding date grew nearer.</p><p>Draco planted a soft kiss on her forehead and gave her a squeeze at her shoulders. This caused Astoria to open the bedroom door, allowing him to leave to go to the restroom.</p><p>Shortly after Draco left, Astoria pulled herself up from the bed and walked back over to the desk, seeing the book laying there innocently, but still so menacingly. She picked it up one last time, opening the cover, though not entirely sure what she was looking for. A name perhaps? Maybe even the initials ‘HG’ somewhere along the front or back cover. Or even a small note written in between the pages. But still, nothing was found. Instead, it really was just a dumb, Muggle book that Draco happened to own. She simply couldn’t wrap her mind around it.</p><p>Astoria placed it back down on the desk and stopped when seeing his quill laid carelessly on its side, the ink that it had been dipped in still fresh on its point. Astoria’s eyes narrowed and looked around. His owl wasn’t around, but Draco never sent out messages during storms. It defeated the purpose of it, really.  And if he were sending messages, why would he write one up in the middle of the night? Astoria looked around the desk, seeing nothing laying about. His desk was uncharacteristically neat and tidy. Too tidy.</p><p>The young woman stood up straight, her eyes landing on his waste bin beside his desk that was filled with nothing but shredded pieces of parchment paper, all of which that had what appeared to be his handwriting on them. Astoria had started to retrieve her wand, wanting to place the puzzle pieces together, but stopped herself. She was hardly the jealous type, except within reason. She could remember when she overheard some Slytherin girls talking about how fit and dashing the “Death Eater” was when they had returned to Hogwarts after the war. It was then that she realized she had a crush on him. But that was years ago. Astoria found it rather upsetting now that she had suddenly begun to grow suspicious of her partner. She wanted to put the shredded parchment together and see what it is that he had written, but knew that if she gone to that extreme, then she shouldn’t have been marrying him if she didn’t trust him. She just couldn’t shake the fact that something just didn’t feel right about what they were doing, but that didn’t necessarily stop Astoria from wanting to marry him.</p><p>In the silence, Astoria heard the footsteps of Draco coming down the hall, and nearly jumped in bed from the sound. She was sitting up and under the covers when Draco had come back into the room. He shook his freshly washed hands dry and crawled in bed next to her.</p><p>“Good night, my love,” Draco spoke softly.</p><p>Astoria simply stared at the man next to her. He was peaceful when he slept, but almost too peaceful with everything going on around him. Astoria glanced over at the desk just once more, her head hurting from their small dispute. Her eyes jumped from the book to the stack of invitations that needed to be enveloped and sealed. She had decided, then, that if she were to question Draco’s motives, it wouldn’t be in the middle of the night.</p><p>
  
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</p><p>
  <strong>RON</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>There were more people than usual at the Ministry that day, some of whom were reporters that had been counting down, waiting for this exact moment to get the inside scoop on the status of the Malfoy family. Walking through the halls, he tried his best to remain professional and not make eye contact with any of them. Aurors alike were trying their best to keep a blank face, even in the public eye when it came down to the Malfoys, regardless of how vile they were. Often, Ron wanted to go back to the way they originally used probationary metrics; house visits. But, when determining that an actual residence was the source and conduct of all dark matters for a known time, they placed a halt on that and had the Malfoy Manor exhumed of all dark artefacts. That was before Ron even secured the position at the Ministry, permanently.</p><p>Walking into his office, Ron ignored the sudden calls from the reporters behind him. They had casted a spell not too long ago against all press so that official business can be kept within the Law Enforcement sector until they determined it was proper to come out with it. Ron looked around, seeing other Aurors who were tending to other cases, but mostly keeping an ear out for the case he had been passed onto, recently.</p><p>A small, stout secretary with dark pink hair poked herself up from behind the tall counter, scrambling at the sight of him.</p><p>“Mr. Weasley, sir! How are you today?”</p><p>“Fine, Francis. My reports, please.”</p><p>“Oh of course, Mr. Weasley, sir! The Minister’s advisor dropped it off shortly before you arrived. I have it here somewhere,” She spoke. As Ron stood, loud thuds and crashes came from her desk as she searched.</p><p>“Your wand, Francis. Use your wand.” Ron frowned, impatient now.</p><p>“That’s what I’m looking for, sir.” She spoke. Ron turned his head, watching as the other Aurors now had little shame that they had stopped all their work to eavesdrop on his case. He couldn’t blame them, really. It was the biggest case in a while, and whatever the Minister relayed over to Ron was monumental to Wizarding History.</p><p>“Anyone seen Harry?” He asked, making polite conversation in the meantime.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s over in the Misuse of Magic department. Some nine-year-old was caught using his father’s wand. Nearly blew their bloody house up.”</p><p>“Ah! Mr. Weasley,” Francis spoke, moving the file over to him with her wand in hand. Some Aurors drew near, as though trying to see the contents of the files before he even could. “The Malfoys are in Office 4.”</p><p>Ron took a deep sigh and, before moving towards them, tucked himself away in Office 3, reading the documents for himself. He scanned them, reading quickly to gather the full extent of the Minister’s approval or disapproval, and sighed when seeing the results. Ron tucked the papers back in the file and let himself out, the silence from the other Aurors standing about deafening his ears. He excused the Auror standing outside of the office the Malfoys were seated, and let himself in.</p><p>The two older Malfoys looked up, worry in Narcissa’s eyes and contempt in Lucius’. It must have been terrible to consider the fate of his probation was being given to him by a Weasley. But nonetheless, Ron had a job to do, even if he weren’t fond of the people seated before him.</p><p>“Good Morning Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” Ron nodded, sitting down and taking out the papers that he had just read. “As you know, your probation with us has carried on for an extensive amount of time. We humbly appreciate your cooperation with us through this process.”</p><p>Ron’s eyes darted to Lucius who had scoffed at the comment. Surely he wasn’t having a good time with this, just like Ron did.</p><p>“Mr. Weasley,” Narcissa spoke. “Has the Minister come to a decision yet? We’ve waited a long time.”</p><p>“The Minister would like to release you both from probation by December of this year, but that only comes with satisfactory behavior.”</p><p>“As in?”</p><p>“As in, we must check your wands for any misuse of magic, dark magic, or curses at random, starting from this point, October 18<sup>th</sup> until December 31<sup>st</sup>. In addition to that, we will perform random check-ins until the end of the year. You are not to have exited your home any day of the week before 12 PM, unless absolutely necessary. We will also need an extra inventory count of any and all dark artefacts that could have possibly been left within the home. If found—”</p><p>Ron stopped talking as he heard commotion going on from just outside his office door. He stood up, drawing his wand and raised it when seeing the door to his office open. In the doorway was Draco, standing tall and at first worried, though growing indifferent once seeing Ron with his wand drawn.</p><p>“Put that thing away, Weasley, before you put an eye out,” Malfoy sneered.</p><p>“I’ll use it if you continue to disregard Auror policy.”</p><p>“And the Minister will surely hear about how you’ve used magic against his junior assistant.”</p><p>“An interesting story it might make,” Ron nodded. “We’ll have to add in how you refused to consider that anyone directly related to witches and wizards in question by the Minister himself cannot speak or testify for them in trial, including in the office of an Auror. If you want to know more, talk it over at dinnertime.”</p><p>Ron felt Malfoy’s eyes harden at his words, and he watched as the frustrated wizard left his office, slamming the door behind him as he went. Ron lowered his wand and tucked it back into his inner pocket, looking at Narcissa who was worried, though had an eerie quietness to her, and Lucius who was ready to burst with insults. And so he did.</p><p>“How dare you,” Lucius whispered in anger. “Drive my son from your office like an unwanted pest.”</p><p>“Lucius, stop.” Narcissa spoke, trying to grab his hand to calm him, though all he did was snatch it away.</p><p>“You think that you can treat him any sort of way because of what<em> I’ve</em> done?”</p><p>“Lucius!”</p><p>“I am to blame! I guided Draco to the Dark Lord! You do not vilify my son for the actions of his father.” Lucius spat, his face reddened from clear agitation. Narcissa, now silent, stared back at Ron with widened eyes, hopeful that his outburst hadn’t ruined their chances. And while Ron wanted to shout back at the senior Malfoy, forcing him to remember of what he allowed his girlfriend to undergo right in the drawing room of the house they still inhabited, he couldn’t. Instead, only one single question came to his mind as a result.</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy, I’m willing to look past your words, for now. However, during our visits, you must contain yourself if you wish to be fully pardoned,” Ron spoke. He watched as the two Malfoys stared him, though one stare more intense than the other, and he stood up, walking them to his office door, though stopping them before they could fully leave. “Though I do wonder how you sleep in that cold, dark house of yours, considering the history.”</p><p>The couple walked out, as did Ron, and he paused once seeing Narcissa silently place a calm hand to her son’s cheek, a weak and assuring smile crossing her face. The two Malfoys left the office, leaving Draco to stand there, turning slowly to Ron like there was unfinished business to be had.</p><p>“What do you want?” Ron asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.</p><p>“I demand the status of my parents probation.”</p><p>“You demand,” Ron grinned. “You’ll have to find out from the Minister, yourself. Seems like it wouldn’t be a hard enough job since you shine his shoes.”</p><p>Draco grimaced at the Weasley man, taking a few steps closer towards him.</p><p>“You insult the Minister by insulting the assistant that he chose.”</p><p>“Not likely,” Ron spoke, taking his own steps towards the blond. “I actually have respect for the Minister.”</p><p>Draco gave Ron one last look over. He was certain that Draco was about to curse him, or say one more smart remark but something in him made him stop, deciding against his jeer. Ron watched as Draco started to walk off, but felt curiosity coming over him as he did. He couldn’t figure it out exactly, but he was almost certain that Malfoy was planning something. It seemed too calculated, his actions.</p><p>“Why did you go to Hermione?” Ron called out. Draco, now a fair distance away, turned to look over his shoulder.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said, why did you go to Hermione to plan your wedding?”</p><p>“Just because it’s your job as an Auror to get down to the facts doesn’t mean that I have to explain myself to you.”</p><p>“Would be nice,” Ron started. “You know, considering she’s my girlfriend.”</p><p>“Easy, Weasley,” Draco squared himself. “At the time, I didn’t know she was the bloody planner when Astoria booked the first appointment.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Ron nodded, now crossing his arms in front of his chest, perplexed by the theory. “It just seems so strange that you of all people would appear in her office for color schemes and flowers, and now all of a sudden when your folks’ probation is in question, you show up here.”</p><p>“What are you implying?” Draco spoke, his voice rising with anger.</p><p>“I’m not implying anything,” Ron spoke, looking him over. “I'm <em>telling</em> you to stay away from Hermione.”</p><p>Ron watched from his standpoint as Draco turned to leave his department. There was an unnerving feeling deep within him that Ron couldn’t exactly explain. He knew that something was going on with Malfoy, considering all that was going on with his parents. Ron sighed to himself, now feeling ill at the thought that the vile man could have possibly gone to Hermione’s office that day in hopes of creating an intimidation tactic aimed at Ron. Either way, Ron was glad that Hermione hadn’t taken the opportunity to plan his wedding. He feared that if she did, she would fall into another one of the Malfoys’ sick plots. Who knew what the man had up his sleeve in a cruel attempt to get inside knowledge? The only thing Ron did know, though, was that he was grateful for Hermione keeping her distance from Draco and that family of his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Ahh! Okay, this chapter was an interesting one for me. I wanted to explore more of Astoria and Ron and how they felt towards the people their partners spent time with the most. Hope this one was a good one for you all! Next chapter will be posted around 12/02! And as always, thanks for all your kind comments, kudos, and the lot! It's very much appreciated. Xx--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione attend Kingsley's Halloween party, find themselves stuck in a tight situation together, and later realize they must face the difficult truth of their friendship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>OCTOBER 29</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There had been quite the trouble looming ahead that had gone into such tedious planning. There were a number of halls that had to be decorated for the holiday, and so on, all with the exception of the Department of Mysteries that really only did what they told themselves to do. But, regardless, Hermione didn’t mind being back in the Ministry, especially without having Ron as her escort. Ron felt a bit snubbed that no other department aside from the Minister's closest advisors and council were invited, but Hermione greatly understood. Having both Ron and Draco here at the same time and place? An absolute recipe for disaster.</p>
<p>The main event was on a floor not used much by any employee of the Ministry. In fact, it often had gone forgotten by Ministry employees and the Minister, himself, who deemed the eerie floor to be of perfect use for the event. According to Kingsley, the space had been used for Muggle Affairs that haven’t been conducted since 1997, which were mostly devoid of magic, to not wrongly stir the Muggle Prime Minister when their meetings were called for. The elevator chimed ‘10<sup>th</sup> floor’ and opened itself to reveal a wide corridor that was once dark and dismal but was now bright and lined with floating Jack-O-Lanterns. And near the end of the corridor, passing by small, deserted offices, were two opened doors that led to a large hall. The hall taking place for the party.</p>
<p>She had told Ron that she was planning the event, and that she was even offered compensation from Kingsley, their old friend. But Hermione humbly denied it, to Ron’s own confusion. She had even started to feel bad for taking payment from Draco, who would still give for the owl she would send to him and Astoria for wedding ideas and the like. It had all been far too much to accept, the more she thought about it.</p>
<p>Hermione stepped inside the large hall, seeing how beautiful she had transformed it, and felt entirely proud of herself. Hanging in the ceiling were candles, much like the ones she often grew fascinated with at Hogwarts, and of course Jack-O-Lanterns strewn about. Corners of the rooms were trimmed with orange, black, and purple décor, still giving some elegance to the fun theme. There were tables for small finger foods and snacks, some party favors, and even a punch bowl with a small edible, candied dragon. Towards the back of the hall were two glass doors, leading to an outdoor garden that people could mingle in, if needing some fresh air. She had thought this out perfectly.</p>
<p>“Miss Granger,” Said one of Kingsley’s personal assistants, a bit different than Draco’s title, handed her a black, jeweled mask to fit the theme.</p>
<p>Hermione smiled at the gesture and took the mask in her hands. She had debated on if she should’ve stayed or not, and had packed a dress for the occasion just in case, but the more she stayed at the Ministry, the more she couldn’t deny that she missed being present here.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” she nodded. “Though I’ll be on my way shortly.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” Kingsley bellowed from behind, startling the young woman with his deep voice. Hermione turned around and smiled at the man who was dressed no different than his typical attire, though holding a masquerade mask for when the party truly started. “You’ll stay! What type of host would I be if I had let you just decorate and leave?”</p>
<p>Hermione had started to protest, alluding that she needed to be up early for work, but knew that tomorrow was Saturday and that Kingsley wouldn’t take that as an answer. She then tried to insist that she didn’t really know anybody who would be attending the party, but she knew that if that were the case, Kingsley would be at her hip all night, introducing her to people she’s probably already met. Though Hermione personally hated being someone’s show-and-tell at parties where she didn’t know many people, she knew that he meant well, and she knew that he wanted her to stay, even after she departed them earlier this year. Kingsley, still, was one of the more positive memories she had from the war.</p>
<p>“Fine,” Hermione quickly gave in. “But only for a little while.”</p>
<p>“Tell Ronald if I have to send you home on a broomstick, myself, that I’ll do it.” He joked with an encouraging pat, walking off to speak with some of his other close contacts while she simply watched.</p>
<p>Hermione turned to the door entrance, seeing a few employees and their spouses entering, ogling the decorations. She quickly picked up the pace and, with her bottomless pit of a bag, started down the halls to a nearby restroom.</p>
<p>Hermione locked the door with a wave of her wand and looked about at the abandoned bathroom. It unintentionally fit the Halloween theme without even trying. It seemed like everything on this floor was old and outdated.</p>
<p>It only took Hermione about thirty minutes to get herself together for tonight. She had decided on something simple—a black dress that fitted well around the bust and flared out at the waist with tulle as her underskirt. Some tulle extended slightly under the black fabric of the dress, with shiny, orange embroidery entwined in the tulle, that illuminated the dress skirt as she flowed. In the dingy, old mirror, Hermione did her best to toss her hair up in a somewhat fashionable bun and looked herself over in the mirror. Not bad for a last-minute pull-together. But then, there was one last thing that she needed to don. Her mask.</p>
<p>Walking down the corridors, her heels clacking along the pavement, as she then stepped inside the hall, seeing many more people than she expected to be there. Hermione suddenly grew shy, fiddling with her fingers in the same way she did when she was nervous about her entrance at the Yule Ball. Though, she was grateful just this once that she hadn’t been the subject of all eyes on her. She wanted to remain unseen, hoping that when things got a bit too lonely for her, she would be able to leave without much to-do from Kingsley. But, it would have definitely been nice to have had Ron or a familiar face somewhere in the mix of masked people.</p>
<p>Then, in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall drinking the punch, was a blond she was certainly familiar with. From her distance, Hermione smoothed her dress and smiled, nervous jitters crossing her as she made her way through the crowd to reach him. Draco was casual in a very nice black suit with a matching black shirt, keeping it classic for tonight’s events. But most importantly, to her shock, he was wearing a golden mask, though unhappily, might I add.</p>
<p>“Well don’t you look dashing!” Hermione smiled at him. Draco, who seemed bothered before she arrived relaxed at her presence as a soft smile crossed him. He was studying her, trying to find the right words to say to remark on how she looked that night. His mouth initially opened, wanting to greet her with the same enthusiasm, but he stopped himself. His bright eyes became devoid of all emotion, and his smile dropped into a stoic line.</p>
<p>“As do you, Miss Granger,” He nodded.</p>
<p>Hermione’s eyes widened at the greeting and couldn’t contain the laughter that erupted from his words.</p>
<p>“What the fuck?” She whispered, shaking her head in amused disbelief. “This isn’t an event at Malfoy Manor, Draco. Think you can lighten up a bit?”</p>
<p>Draco looked down, wanting to explain more but not doing so. Instead, Hermione’s eyes narrowed at him, wanting any sort of normalcy to come back into their friendship. And just as she were about to call him out for his strange behavior, she froze at the sound of a familiar voice coming near her.</p>
<p>“Miss Granger,” Astoria smiled, though all Hermione could do was stand there. She was gorgeous, wearing an expensive, red, form fitting dress that hugged every dip of her body, and a matching gold mask to the one Draco was wearing. “Didn’t think I would see you here, tonight.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Hermione cleared her throat a bit, shyness dwelling on her in her presence. “I decorated. I had started to leave but the Minister asked me to stay for a little while.”</p>
<p>“How nice of you. And do you have your date, tonight?”</p>
<p>“No,” Hermione shook her head. “I thought it would be a quick in-and-out so I hadn’t invited Ron.”</p>
<p>Astoria’s mouth curled up in a bit of a sly grin at her responses. The tall woman stalked over to stand directly next to Draco, looping her arm with his as though trying to assert some sort of power in their conversation. With her eyes still fixated on Hermione, looking her festive dress over, she stroked Draco’s arm gently.</p>
<p>“What a shame to be left all alone,” She pressed. Draco slowly removed his arm from Astoria, tugging at his top collar button to give himself more comfort, though Astoria silently stopped him with a hold of her hand. “I was just speaking with the Minister on how beautiful the decorations look. I cannot wait to have you fully work for us on our wedding as the time comes.”</p>
<p>Hermione forced herself to smile and nodded in compliance, her gaze shifting back and forth from Astoria to Draco as they stood before her. Astoria’s stare could pierce through glass from the way she watched Hermione now, noticing her wandering eye. Draco, however, was looking anywhere else, trying not to make eye contact with the witch before him, and certainly not with the witch beside him.</p>
<p>“I can’t wait.” Hermione managed to force out, though biting her tongue afterwards after dealing with such disrespect. She couldn’t help but think that something had gone on between the couple to warrant Draco’s distance and incite Astoria’s rudeness, but nothing had seemed off with Draco when they were alone. No, all was well. Incredibly well. In fact, Draco was one of the people that Hermione very much enjoyed spending her time with. But now, she wondered honestly if something had changed. Perhaps she was growing too emotional towards it all. Perhaps she was creating scenarios that didn’t make sense in her head. Either way, she tried to brush it off as though she didn’t care, when in all actuality, she did.</p>
<p>A lot.</p>
<p>“Oh, darling, look. Isn’t that the Minister’s Advisor and his wife? We should go mingle with the other couples,” Astoria pressed, now linking her fingers with Draco. “It was lovely talking to you, Miss Granger.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched as Astoria and Draco walked over to a group of others who were all gathered around with their loved ones and spouses. She tried not to let Astoria’s words and Draco’s lack thereof get the best of her, but she had concluded that perhaps she would leave a lot sooner than expected. She walked over to the punch bowl that had been spiked with some sort of alcohol, and shrugged it off, downing it in an instance, and settling into a chair nearby.</p>
<p>At least there were alcohol.</p>
<p>Soon after taking her seat, Hermione watched as the music changed to one of a slow melody, bringing plenty of couples alike to the dance floor, including Astoria and Draco. From her distance, she saw the way the two of them danced, with Draco’s loose hands holding onto Astoria’s waist, much the opposite of her hands that nearly grabbed at the back of his nape.</p>
<p>An older woman came and took a seat next to Hermione, smiling graciously as she watched them as well.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it marvelous?” The woman asked.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry?” Hermione questioned.</p>
<p>“A wedding to outshine all weddings. It’s so exciting. I hear they’re having four hundred guests, and even a dragon.”</p>
<p>“Exciting.” Hermione spoke sarcastically to the woman’s wrong rumors, not willing to discuss their wedding at the moment. So much confused her about Astoria, but mostly about Draco. She didn’t know why she warranted such sour behavior from Astoria, or why Draco wasn’t talking to her. But she knew that more than anything, she needed an answer. She deserved an answer.</p>
<p>“They truly are the Pure-Blood dream couple.” The woman spoke dreamily.</p>
<p>Hermione shifted her eyes quickly to the woman in disbelief. Had people still valued that inherently prejudiced yet “traditional” way of viewing things? Or had their wedding become that much of a public event that they had a fanbase she wasn’t aware of? And instead of scoffing at the woman, she turned her attention back to the couple to try and see what it was that she saw.</p>
<p> Astoria’s eyes were closed as they swayed on the dance floor, an action that somehow bothered Hermione the more she watched them through song after song, minutes counting on while all she could do was stare. It was the way they were so different in expression that turned Hermione sour. Yes, often time opposites did attract, but to her, Astoria and Draco seemed so far off from what she would consider a “Dream Couple.” Hermione watched as they moved in slow circles, rotating though still in their same spot, and locked eyes with Draco. Even with the mask on, there was much more that needed to be said, much more that needed to be expressed. That much she gained from just his eyes alone. And though she had often found herself to enjoy being under his direct gaze as of late, at this moment, it bothered her. It bothered her because she hated how he was looking tonight, both incredibly handsome and conflicted, like herself. Part of her wanted to tell him off for tossing such a gaze at her, but the other part of her couldn’t deny that she wished she had taken Astoria’s place on the dance floor.</p>
<p>“Will you excuse me.” Hermione spoke to the woman, standing up and leaving the hall to retreat to the outside seating area.</p>
<p> With the cool night air dancing on her arms, Hermione found herself torn between what she was feeling, and what she knew to be true. Her heart was racing as each time Draco appeared in her thoughts, she tried to force Ron in directly after. But realizing she was doing so rubbed her the wrong way. How could she even find this fondness in her heart for the man she had once considered the most contemptible? The feeling unnerved her, bringing her to frustrated tears as she had a slight feeling of what this meant, but denied it constantly.</p>
<p><em>He’s my friend. He’s my friend.</em> Then again, that’s how she and Ron started off, anyways.</p>
<p>She calmed herself down as she stared at the night sky, trying to steady her breath and found herself with tears coming down her face. She hated how she felt and knew that it was wrong. But seeing him tonight, and seeing how he had so easily disregarded her made her realize that come December, they would become nothing more than strangers again. He would go on to have children and parties with other couples like Blaise and Pansy, and she? Well, she was left in limbo with her longtime love. God, this fucking sucked.</p>
<p>“Hey,” A familiar voice called out to her softly from behind. Hermione glanced over her shoulder, seeing Draco with his mask off now, standing near the glass doors that led back into the hall. “You alright?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Hermione spoke, turning away from him quickly and then turning to the moon above. She wanted to be home in her bed but knew that coming home this upset would strike the most unpleasant conversation with Ron. Home was easily her most wanted and unwanted place right now. “Why aren’t you inside? Feet tired from dancing?”</p>
<p>Draco glanced over his shoulder and took a few steps towards Hermione, who was purposely giving him the cold shoulder.</p>
<p>“Astoria’s in the bathroom. She wants to leave when she comes back. Just thought I’d say bye,” He started, though not getting a single reaction from Hermione. He knew the witch was upset, particularly with him, but he also knew that their friendship wasn’t ready for the public eye just yet. “You did an amazing job with the hall. I knew you would.”</p>
<p>“Now I can do an even better job at your wedding.” Hermione spat, looking him over, this time not caring that her tears were visible to him. She snatched the masquerade mask off of her face and looked down in annoyance. She was mad that she had started to cry but was even more mad that she had cried because of how she felt towards him. And she couldn’t even tell him. What type of wedding planner would she be? This was highly unprofessional for her to get so involved.</p>
<p>“You’re mad.” Draco noticed, though the more she heard his voice, the more annoyed she got. She had been ready to ask him so many questions, like why he looked at her the way he did, and why things had to be so complicated. She was even prepared to ask why he was getting married but stopped herself of all inquisition and jumped when hearing Kingsley calling her name from inside the hall.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t matter if I’m mad.” She brushed past him, trying to force a neutral face as the crowd searched for her. She made her way inside, just at the same time that Astoria was coming back in from the outer halls and turned her full attention to the man standing ahead of the crowd.</p>
<p>“Come, Miss Granger,” He spoke. Hermione held her breath, walking towards where Kingsley stood and froze as a light from up above had now shone on her. “Everyone, I wanted to take a brief moment to thank Miss Granger for the amount of work and effort she had put in towards making tonight special for us. It is my utmost hope that she will return to us at the Ministry someday, soon.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched as the two familiar figures moved stealthily as Kingsley spoke, and she could feel her face hardening at the sight. Astoria was whispering excitedly to Draco, though he had little emotion on his face from her words. Then, just as they reached the door, Draco stopped and turned around focusing on Hermione, causing her to look away from him as he stared. The rest of the room clapped in gratitude for Hermione’s work, and Kingsley let the rest of the party continue.</p>
<p>He looked Hermione over, sensing something was wrong, though not really making a big deal out of it. He knew how private the young woman was.</p>
<p>“Will you be heading home soon?”</p>
<p>“I think I should. Ron’s probably worrying his head off about me.” Hermione feigned a smile.</p>
<p>“Give him and Harry, my best.” Kingsley nodded, soon walking off to leave Hermione to get herself together.</p>
<p>Leaving the party, Hermione walked down the corridor, stumbling a bit from tired feet in her heels, and stopped when seeing the blond man walking in her direction. She moved herself closer to the walls, as to not walk directly past him, though all Draco did was follow her when she did.</p>
<p>“Where are you going?”</p>
<p>“Home,” She spoke curtly. “I thought you were going, as well.”</p>
<p>“Astoria is heading home. I uh, was actually going to stay behind because I know Kingsley likes a crowd.”</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Hermione caught on to his fib, and knew that he wanted to talk to her. But it was useless. What would she say that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete snob? Stopping at the elevator and waiting for it to arrive. As she stood there, she watched into the darkness, waiting for it to arrive, ignoring the stares coming from Draco.</p>
<p>“Will you tell me what’s wrong with you?”</p>
<p>At that moment, the elevator came to a shaky jolt and the gates opened. Hermione stepped in and as did Draco. All her frustration from the night’s events weighed on her shoulder as she yanked the lever towards the Atrium with force.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing to talk about.”</p>
<p>The elevator jolted once more, taking them away from this level, and zoomed through the Ministry.</p>
<p>“Why not?” Draco asked.</p>
<p>“Because it doesn’t matter!”</p>
<p>“If you’re shouting then it clearly does matter!” Draco sniped back.</p>
<p>The elevator came to a sudden stop, tossing the witch and wizard inside of it about as they landed in the darkness.</p>
<p>Hermione clutched the sides of the lift, looking out past the gate as they stared into the pitch-black nothingness.</p>
<p>“Now look at what you’ve done.” Hermione spoke, trying to jingle the gates.</p>
<p>“Don’t yank it like that.” Draco spoke, waving her hand away as he took out his wand.</p>
<p>“Magic doesn’t work <em>in</em> the elevators.” Hermione stated, stress crawling deeper into her skin and nestling into her boiling blood.</p>
<p>“Who said?” Draco asked. He waved his wand, trying to get them to move with a spell, though nothing was working.</p>
<p>“Hello. We see that you are stuck,” The intercom spoke out. Hermione frowned, looking to find anywhere where someone could possibly hear them if they were to call out to someone, but found nothing. “A specialized witch or wizard is coming to your aid. We do apologize for this inconvenience. In the meantime, please enjoy some music personally selected by the Minister, himself.”</p>
<p>The elevator began playing soft, jazzy elevator music while the darkness behind the gates grew incredibly eerie to Hermione. Now feeling panicked, Hermione pressed her face to the gate, clutching it as she called out.</p>
<p>“Hello! Can anyone hear me?”</p>
<p>“It’s just darkness, Hermione.” Draco spoke, accepting his fate as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.</p>
<p>“Obviously,” She spat, then turning to search out into the darkness. “If I had just gotten in alone, this wouldn’t have happened.”</p>
<p>“You think my yelling is what got us stuck?”</p>
<p>“It stopped working once you did!”</p>
<p>“Well then great, let’s yell some more! Maybe we’ll move all the elevators in the Ministry, and I can finally find out what’s the matter with you,” Draco’s voice sarcastic and bitter. “And besides, if it weren’t for me getting in this elevator with you, you’d be alone and by yourself, yelling out into the darkness as you drove yourself crazy.”</p>
<p>“At least I’d be alone to my thoughts,” Hermione spoke.</p>
<p>“If anything, that’ll drive you even more crazy.” Draco poked.</p>
<p>Hermione turned around with nothing but annoyance plastered on her face. She couldn’t help it. Or maybe, she didn’t want to help it. She wanted him to know exactly what he had done, and failed to do that riled her up, so.</p>
<p>“Why are you acting so cross?” Draco scoffed as he looked at her.</p>
<p>“I could be asking you the same thing,” Hermione frowned, her arms now crossed in front of her. “You barely spoke to me earlier, and you stood by and did nothing while Astoria just threw herself all over you and tossed subtle belittlement at me.”</p>
<p>“Since when did you need someone to come to stand up for you? You’re a brilliant witch. You’re more than capable of handling yourself, so what’s the real issue?”</p>
<p>“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.” After she spoke, Hermione cursed herself for speaking her mind to that extent. Who was she to judge how Astoria interacted with Draco? She was his fiancée after all, and to even criticize her seemed entirely out of line, even for her.</p>
<p>Draco sighed and looked her over. She was pretty even with a pout on her face, and in fact, he actually found it rather adorable.</p>
<p>“Are you jealous?” Curiosity overcoming him as he tried to piece this together for himself.  </p>
<p>“What?! Jealous? Oh please!” Hermione frowned, now turning away from him. “I’m hardly jealous of the witch who would spend the rest of her life with <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>“So then why are you so bothered and why did it matter so much that you brought it up?”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t.”</p>
<p>“But you—”</p>
<p>“Just stop,” Hermione spoke. “It’s bad enough we’re stuck here, but I think we’re going to be stuck for a while.”</p>
<p>She slid down the side of the lift and crossed her legs, tired from their banter. Draco did the same, sitting down beside her, trying to understand exactly what was going on.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to annoy you.” Draco spoke. “I just didn’t get the chance to talk to you like I normally would, so I took the opportunity to mess with you. But I didn’t think…I didn’t know you were seriously upset.”</p>
<p>Hermione glanced at him and shrugged her shoulder at his explanation.</p>
<p>“It’s fine, I guess,” She assured, but then thought back to what it was that she felt when she saw him dancing with Astoria, her defenses kicking back in.</p>
<p>The silence mixed in with the awful music playing in the background was much too much for Draco to bear. It reminded him too much of when his mother would throw her soirees and invite too many people over. That was back in the day. Now, she even grew slightly suspicious, but grateful nonetheless, when even Draco would come over unannounced.</p>
<p>“Where did you learn to decorate like that?” He asked, genuine curiosity taking over.</p>
<p>Hermione smiled a little, thinking back on how she had first gained the interest to begin with.</p>
<p>“Before I attended Hogwarts, my mother would throw birthday parties for me and I always loved to help. She taught me how to curl streamers with scissors and how to tie balloons together. And then I went to Hogwarts and saw that it was far easier to achieve with magic than with any other Muggle tools,” She smirked. “But I got all my ideas, creativity, and vision from my mum. I try to leave a piece of her in everything that I do.”</p>
<p>The fond memory that Hermione reminisced on took a toll on her voice. It was beautiful to Draco to watch her relive it, but knew that it had to have been hard on her to not share in what she could create with her mother.</p>
<p>“I know she would’ve been proud,” Draco nodded. “I know I am.” causing Hermione to look away shyly, concealing either a blush or a single tear, or perhaps even both.</p>
<p>“Well, what about you?” Hermione spoke after collecting herself.</p>
<p>“What<em> about</em> me?”</p>
<p>“I always felt that you got your pride and haughtiness from your father after I first met him,” Hermione started. “But your mother is more quiet, reserved, and gentle from when I had seen her last.”</p>
<p>“I picked up on my father’s insight about the Muggle world early on. When I had first told my mother I wanted to become just like dad, I was twelve, and she told me that I could be anything I wanted to be, as long as I was being kind to others and to myself,” Draco’s voice trailed off, as if mentally reliving all the times he had hurt others with his words, or even with magic. “Of course, I didn’t listen. I was my father’s twin when I was younger, but as I started to grow up, and I was initiated, I found myself trying to become more like my mother. Ambitious and goal focused.”</p>
<p>“And caring.” Hermione smiled.</p>
<p>“Caring?” Draco spoke, his mouth twisting into an odd smile as though he didn’t believe her input.</p>
<p>“Would you have followed me into this elevator if you didn’t care if I were mad or not?” She asked.</p>
<p>“It feels weird to be considered caring.”</p>
<p>Hermione thought for a moment and looked at Draco, who was now looking at her, both calm and now genuinely relaxed in the other’s presence now that they weren’t bickering.</p>
<p>“I don’t think you should beat yourself up so much. You were doing what you needed to do to protect your family. Anyone can relate to that, especially me. And besides all that, you’re actually very good company to have when your wand isn’t in a knot. Astoria got quite the catch, but I’m lucky and genuinely appreciative to have you in my life. You’re someone special to me in so many ways,” Hermione’s thoughts flashed back even further to their conversation the day they went to the bookshop. “You know, you never did finish telling me how you knew you wanted to marry Astoria.”</p>
<p>Draco sighed a bit and looked at Hermione, noticing the twinkle in her that came when they met eyes. He knew that somehow, without Hermione connecting the dots, that the question she asked was related to their dispute. He knew he couldn’t hide from the story today, or any other day for that matter, and braced himself for the honesty that would pour out of him.</p>
<p>“Like I said, I didn’t know,” He started. “One day I was just with my parents and they brought up marriage and how Astoria and I had been together for a little while and that it would only be right, considering she’s so <em>perfect</em>.”</p>
<p>“Perfect is a heavy word,” Hermione smirked.</p>
<p>“It’s the most used adjective since our engagement.” Draco shrugged.</p>
<p>“But did you even want to get married?” Hermione asked, intrigued now in his story.</p>
<p>“I did. I do. I mean, I want to be married someday, yes. But I keep trying to figure out what it is that you feel when you <em>know</em>.”</p>
<p>Hermione smirked and turned her attention to her hands, understanding fully where he was coming from.  </p>
<p>“I guess you don’t have to search for it to know if it’s there. I think that more than anything, in addition to a knowing, it’s a feeling more than anything.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“What I’m saying is that maybe you’re doing something because it’s expected of you.”</p>
<p>Draco sighed and shook his head.</p>
<p>“Blaise thinks I’m getting cold wand. He keeps giving me ideas to salvage the engagement like pushing back the date and all that, but I know Astoria. She wouldn’t hear that idea. I know she won’t.”</p>
<p>“Draco, you make it sound like you’re unhappy.” Hermione looked him over.</p>
<p>“I don’t know much about what I am, Hermione.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that,” Hermione nudged him, trying to knock his train of thought loose. “You just have to ask yourself the honest questions. The hard ones. The ones you don’t want to answer for yourself.”</p>
<p>Draco grew curious about how good she was with advice, and turned his focus to her now, trying to do anything to drown out the now slow, elegant elevator music that was being played in the background.</p>
<p>“What about you? What hard questions have you asked yourself?”</p>
<p>Hermione didn’t have to think too hard before realizing what those questions were to her.</p>
<p>“A few years ago or so, I had wanted Ron to ask me to marry him. But I wasn’t handling the war too well, and I figured he was stalling because of me. But I found out that he doesn’t want to get married so soon. Or better yet, he didn’t know if he wanted to get married at all. So I had to start asking myself if that’s what I really wanted, since he seemed to have put in such an amount of thought towards the idea.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>Hermione gave a sad smile and shook her head as she looked at him.</p>
<p>“I don’t think I want to, anymore. The thought doesn’t thrill me like it once used to. And I keep trying to see if longevity weighs out feeling but it doesn’t. They’re supposed to go hand-in-hand, I feel.”</p>
<p>“So, then why haven’t you two broke up?”</p>
<p>Hermione studied the wizard’s face which was now burning red from the question. She had started to answer, to defend her position, but their conversation weighed on her, instead.</p>
<p>“Why are you still planning this wedding if you’re uncertain about Astoria?” She watched as he didn’t say a word, though not knowing that she had taken his thoughts and formulated them into a question he had been too afraid to ask himself. Why <em>did</em> he propose besides being told it was the fair thing to do by his parents? “Do you not love her?”</p>
<p>A deep sigh came out from within the young man. This conversation was getting a little too intense for his liking, but it was Hermione, and he knew he could be an open book with her.</p>
<p>“Love is complex to my family. It’s not like we’re emotionless or anything, but I remember asking my father one time when I was younger if he loved my mum when he married her. It was just an innocent, dumb question from a little kid. I didn't know any better. But what shocked me was that he said he grew to love her over time. It was so odd, and I only ever thought of it now as I got older. I see people today getting married while they had already found love and friendship within their partners, not before it even occurred.”</p>
<p>“Have you loved anyone before in that way?” Hermione looked at Draco who was forcing himself to not make eye contact with her. Instead, he focused on a crack in the elevator floor just near her foot. He didn’t know what the right answer was but knew that there really wasn’t one. It was either a yes or a no, and the fact that he couldn’t come up with an answer when thinking of Astoria was frightening to him.</p>
<p>Draco’s silence stirred Hermione in the wrong way as she began to feel bad for asking such a question, and then looked at his expensive dress robes that were laying on the floor with them. She knew that if Astoria were here, she’d fashion a way to hang his clothing up so as to not ruin his expensive fabrics.</p>
<p>“You’re getting all dirty.” Hermione noticed, patting some bits of dirt off of his pants as they sat.</p>
<p>“It’s fine. I’m more worried about us not getting out of here,” Draco confessed. Through the pause, the slow music lulled them both, reminding them of their current circumstance. “If starvation doesn’t kill us, then this terrible music will.”</p>
<p>Hermione laughed a bit to herself and leaned the back of her head on the lift as she looked at him.</p>
<p>“Is it bad that I kind of want to dance to it?”</p>
<p>She watched as Draco calculated for a moment, his face growing serious at her revelation. She watched as he stood up, dusting himself off, and offering his hand to help Hermione up off the floor. Except, she didn’t take it.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?”</p>
<p>“You wanted to dance, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>Hermione held her breath and took his hand, standing up and then dusting herself off, as well. Draco, who seemed particularly nervous himself, looked at her for permission to touch her in such a different way. Hermione didn’t speak, but instead stepped closer to him, allowing him to do so.</p>
<p>“I’m not a very good dancer.” Hermione warned, her hands resting on his shoulders.</p>
<p>“It’s amazing how you can still worry about such menial things when no one is around to see.” He smirked, causing Hermione to blush.</p>
<p>The music was perfect for their sways, as the low tune was sultry and smooth for the nighttime. If Hermione hadn’t known any better, she would think the music was chosen purposely to make the stuck inhabitants sleepy and relaxed to forget they were stuck in such a small confine. But most important of all, Hermione couldn’t believe she was actually sharing this dance with him. All confusion that had entered her mind earlier in the night was now gone, as the only thing she focused on was not stepping on Draco’s toes from her nerves. As they continued, swaying slowly in the elevator, Hermione shifted a bit, getting more comfortable than she thought she would, and rested her head on his chest.</p>
<p>“I like this,” Draco spoke in a voice so low that Hermione could only think it were a whisper.</p>
<p>“I like it too.” She whispered back, chills rustling down her spine as his hands moved from being rested gently on her waist, to now hugging her close to him. Hermione nearly melted from the feeling of hugging him close, her hands moving from his shoulders to his back, gripping at his clothing as she hugged him back, partially for leverage, but mostly because it just felt so right.</p>
<p>“I…I think I like this a little too much, though.” Draco confessed, swallowing through difficult words that he hadn’t yet fully understood. He tried his best to calm his now intense heartbeat from Hermione’s actions. Though the young woman was no longer confused, Draco now had one too many questions he had needed answers to. Why did he love the feeling of Hermione in his arms more than Astoria? Why did he feel so understood and so at peace with Hermione? Too many “why’s” for his liking.</p>
<p>“Draco?” Hermione asked, taking notice of his rapidly beating heart. The young woman looked up at the man, studying his pointed features of his dashing façade. Draco stared back at her, his eyes dancing around her face, then settling on her lips. Hermione’s heart, now matching Draco’s in pace, nearly stopped at where his gaze landed. In that moment, staring at him, Hermione thought she had been levitating this entire time, lifted from the swelling in her heart. Right there, with him, it all made sense as much as it didn’t. She knew how intense the need grew inside of her to kiss him, but she couldn’t. Even though she didn’t like his fiancée, it wouldn’t have been right. It wouldn’t have been fair.</p>
<p>A profound sadness crept within the young woman; a knowing, even. Astoria had found Draco first, and they were engaged. Even if he were questioning this now, things could change in a month, or a few weeks. Maybe even tomorrow he would wake up and regret having her in his arms like this, begging for their friendship to remain as it were. But for some reason, through the silence, it didn’t feel this way. Whatever was shared between them in this small, cramped lift with a dimming light above them, Hermione knew was mutual.</p>
<p>Draco was calm, knowing exactly what he had wanted to do, but as they stood together, all other thoughts failed to conduct themselves in their usual pesty manner. Instead, they rested. Rested for the first time in a while after a long, tiresome, mental fight. He tucked away some of Hermione’s hair behind her ear, and stood staring at the woman who had taken away his breath this night. He knew it was her. Whatever it was that Draco was searching for, whatever it was that Draco was trying to make sense of, it was all there, right at his fingertips, right there with him in that lift.</p>
<p>As the two held each other, stuck in this knowing trance, the lift jolted downward, causing them to break apart. Neither of them spoke to the other, and neither of them made eye contact, for fear of what would happen if they got too consumed in their emotions again.</p>
<p>“Level 8—The Atrium.” The intercom spoke as all music stopped.</p>
<p>There were a few wizards tending to the lift, bringing them in and thus opening the gates for them.</p>
<p>“Hope the wait wasn’t too gruesome for you lot.” One of the men said. Still, neither of them spoke to one another. Hermione took a deep breath and stepped out of the lift, thanking the men with a polite nod, walking out slowly. She waited until she had reached one of the fireplaces nearby to turn around and see Draco. The man was now standing outside of the lift as the other wizards tended to it, searching it for any sign of malfunction, as the blond man stood away from them, staring at the witch leaving him.</p>
<p>There was so much to be said, from both friends, but neither of them dared to instigate a whisper, nor a peep, to decipher what had just occurred between shoddy elevator music and a dimming lightbulb above them. And as much as Hermione wanted to go back and find out what this was, she resisted as much as she could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back at home, Hermione crept into the bedroom, peering at a sleeping Ron and Crookshanks who was perched gallantly on her side of the bed. The scene, so serene and innocent, devoid of all confusion, yet here confusion still lay. She had told herself for six years that this was her family. That this was her end goal. Now, she just wasn’t so sure, anymore. About anything. And that, to Hermione, was the most troubling thing of all. Her mind was full once again, unlike its own previous emptiness from when she was with Draco in the lift.</p>
<p>Without thinking, the woman stripped off her dress and kicked off her heels, climbing in the bed right beside Ron as Crookshanks jumped to the floor with a faint ‘Meow’.</p>
<p>Getting into bed stirred Ron awake as he looked his girlfriend over through tired, blurry eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re home,” He spoke, his voice low and groggy. “How was it?”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Hermione nodded blankly and quietly as she slithered into bed, neither tired nor ready to drift off to sleep.</p>
<p>Ron placed a tired arm over Hermione’s body, pulling her close to him as they both lay in the dark. His arms were strong, and the arms that she had grown used to for all these years, but far different from the arms she had found herself in just before she came home. As Ron cuddled closer to her, falling asleep with his face pressed tiredly against her bare back, Hermione found herself crying silently in his arms. She wondered that if she felt so much from just hearing his beating heart and holding him so close, what it would’ve done to her to just feel his lips pressed against hers. At the thought, Hermione cried a little more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-- AHHH! Finally we're getting somewhere!! I loved writing this chapter a whole lot and exploring the complexities of their feelings. Part of me feels like it was far too long BUT I absolutely had to do it for our favorite ship! Thanks so much for keeping up with me as I write! Next chapter will be posted 12/04! And as always, your comments, kudos, bookmarks and hits are always always appreciated! Thanks for all the feedback I've received. I hope you all enjoy! Love you all lots! Xx--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione engages in some one-on-one "girl chat" with Astoria, and encounters a shocking revelation right in the comfort of her home.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>ASTORIA</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>When Draco had finally arrived home that night, Astoria didn’t bother questioning him on if Kingsley really did need his help cleaning up after the party. She didn’t want to talk to him, and for once, she had actually enjoyed his absence. Astoria could feel him pulling away from her, but he still had the audacity to conduct himself as though everything was fine. As if everything were alright without a word of anything to her. Since their engagement, she would often find him deep in thought, not really talkative, and more on edge. She hadn’t seen this Draco since Hogwarts. It concerned her, of course, but she was also impatient to it all. No matter how hard she pressed, he wouldn’t budge. And to make it worse, she noticed how bright his face lit up when seeing Hermione that night. Jeez men were so obvious. If she were to lose her fiancé to the wedding planner, then what was this all for? Everything had been fine before she came into their lives. Draco never knew, but she deeply regretted the day that she set foot into her office, smiling bold and trying to impress the witch. But she had to be honest with herself, though she didn’t like it. She had asked Draco plenty of times when they would get married, and if they would get a start on their family. She was always the one initiating things like this. She just figured that he was shy when it came to his emotions and expressing himself, especially with how discreet the Malfoys could be. But now, Astoria had begun to wonder if he even wanted to propose to her in the first place but decided against that thought. Draco wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to, right?</p><p>Still, she let him creep into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t known that she were awake, or maybe he just didn’t care, but Astoria tried her best to not give away that she was. So, laying perfectly still in the dark, she watched him as his back faced her. Something was troubling him, she could tell. Astoria could also tell what his response would be if she were to ask if he were alright. A simple “I’m fine” was always his call. She would get frustrated and they would probably fight a little before coming to a truce and going to bed. It was all the same story. Either way, she knew something was wrong with him, but asking him at midnight wasn’t the best way to go about it.</p><p>She watched as he stood up, walking over to the writing desk, and taking a seat. He tapped his quill lightly as he stared at the blank parchment and had began to write. Whatever it was, it was brief, considering that he stood up a merely thirty seconds after he sat. He glanced over his shoulder at Astoria who quickly shut her eyes, feigning her sleep, but then opening them when she heard the shuffle of other parchment on his desk. Without a single movement, Astoria listened as he made his way to the bed after undressing and laid down with a heavy sigh. Though their bed were small, it felt like he was worlds away from her, filling in the emptiness of the bed with the cool night air that traveled in from their window.</p><p>Astoria had laid there for what felt like ages until she finally heard the faint snores coming from Draco, signaling her attempt to get up from the bed. Now, of all times, she was grateful that Draco had been a heavy sleeper. She tip-toed slowly to the writing desk, gently flipping through the parchment that lay in a neat stack on his desk. Each one that she had touched were blank, except for the last one that was hidden behind all the others.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can we talk? I want to make sure you’re okay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>-DM</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>A sickening feeling overcame Astoria as she read the paper and glanced back at Draco who was still lost in his slumber. She grimaced at the man who looked so innocent while he rested but knew that he was far from being so. She had suspected he were hiding something from her for a while now, but actually having some sort of evidence proved true to her suspicions. And on top of that, she knew who he was writing to without having to guess too hard. Inside, the witch was sad, though her expression outwardly was blank. Astoria had learned from an early age that the only face that mattered was the face that you showed the world. At least that’s what her mother said, anyways. But still, she wondered what it was that had drawn Draco into the wedding planner. Astoria was pretty, and charismatic, and even his mother called her perfect. So why was it that Draco couldn’t see that? Why wasn’t that enough for him?</p><p>Astoria held the paper in her shaky hands, whispering a spell to ignite the parchment on fire in mid air, and watched as it disintegrated into nothingness, to her delight. It was like it had never even been written. To have the paper gone took a ton of weight off her shoulders. She felt freed and rid of all the energy that Hermione Granger had brought into her home, and this time took a seat at Draco’s desk.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Miss Granger,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was lovely seeing you at tonight’s event. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I appreciate all that you’ve done to help Draco and I with</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Our very special day,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I do need another favor from you, now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Meet me at Organza’s Bridal Shoppe this Tuesday.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It would be very much appreciated if</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You would accompany me on my search.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I get the sense that we have the same taste.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hope you are well,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Astoria Greengrass</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>NOVEMBER</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The large mirror of the posh boutique was just enough to get the full view and beauty of the dress that Astoria donned. There were jewels and rhinestones to properly accentuate the vintage feel of the dress, perfect for their special day. She was aware that Draco’s parents loved the conservative look and though it wasn’t really her style, she knew it would properly impress her future in-laws. From her reflection in the mirror, she studied both her sister and her mother’s reactions, noticing that neither of the women seemed pleased with her choice.</p><p>“What?” She spoke, spinning around though nearly falling from all the heavy fabric.</p><p>“It’s not…you.” Daphne spoke, shaking her head in disapproval.</p><p>“It’s not supposed to be me.” Astoria tossed, looking down at the dress. Truthfully, this would’ve been the last dress Astoria would have picked out to marry Draco in. In fact, if Astoria had her own pick, she would choose a dress that was more modern, and any color other than white. Perhaps a baby blue or even a light blush. But certainly not vintage cream with all the beading and intricate stitching.</p><p>“Well darling I know you want to make quite the impression, but you have to be happy, too.” Her mother spoke, trying her best to look at Astoria and not the horrid dress she had stepped in.</p><p>Astoria looked from both her mother and her sister and turned to the dressmaker, smiling politely.</p><p>“Do you have anything else here of this style?”</p><p>“I may have another.” The elderly woman spoke, shuffling to the back.</p><p>“And bring her something modern, if possible.” Daphne shouted, resulting in a laugh coming from their mother.</p><p>“You’re being rude.” Astoria pouted, returning to the mirror to look herself over. Though she didn’t like the dress, she knew that with the right sprucing and makeup, she could make anything look damn good.</p><p>“What do you want me to do? Lie to you about the biggest day of your life?”</p><p>“I’m choosing this dress or something similar to marry Draco in.”</p><p>“But sweetheart, his family’s offering you a large budget for your dress and you’ve barely made a dent in it, just to appease them. Don’t you think you should keep looking for more dresses? We’ve been all over and still nothing.”</p><p>“Try Muggle London,” Daphne murmured. “At least the Malfoys won’t know where it came from.” Daphne’s snide remark rubbed Astoria the wrong way, causing the sternest look to appear on the bride-to-be’s face. Lately she was a lot more on edge than normal. Their wedding was in one month, their invitations hadn’t gone out yet, she wasn’t the happiest in this dress, and certainly not happy with Draco’s behavior. But Astoria hoped deep down that maybe if she could play conservative for the wedding, then their relationship would be a bit more settled after their nuptials and once the stresses of the wedding were long gone.</p><p>“Oh, don’t get upset now, dear.” Mrs. Greengrass noticed Astoria’s foul expression and tried to diffuse the tension between the two sisters. “She was only poking fun. Try to relax a bit.”</p><p>“I’ll relax when I get the right dress. Time is running out and I don’t even have options.”</p><p>“And that’ll only be when you get the dress you want.” Daphne shot back, growing bored with the dress that hung on her sister’s body.</p><p>The owner of the shoppe came back to the small wedding party, dropping off two new dresses with the wave of her wand and retreating to the back. One dress Astoria had fallen in love with in an instance. It was strapless with a big, full ballgown skirt, and though it was pure white, it was still gorgeous. It was probably the most modern dress Astoria had seen during their two hours in the shoppe, and she could feel her heart skipping at the beauty. Then, hanging directly beside it, was a more fashionable vintage dress, a bit newer in decade than the one she had on currently, though still not anything that she cared too much for. But to Astoria, it was perfect…for the circumstance.</p><p>“Tough decision.” Astoria spoke breathlessly, her gaze shifting from the two dresses before her.</p><p>“Tough indeed,” Daphne spoke with a sarcastic eye roll, though stopping once receiving a small disciplinary tap on her wrist from her mother.</p><p>From the front of the store, Astoria watched as Hermione stepped in, clearly defensive and caught off guard at the sight of Astoria with the dress on, and her company. Astoria hadn’t informed Hermione she would have other guests, so it was only a normal reaction to see her so taken back at the two other women.</p><p>Daphne and their mother turned as well, seeing Hermione hesitating to walk forward, giving an awkward wave to the crowd as they sat.</p><p>“Dearest, you didn’t tell us you had a friend coming along.” Her mother spoke in a small whisper.</p><p>“She’s not a friend,” Daphne sighed. “She’s the planner.”</p><p>“Will you both just give us a moment?” Astoria spoke, holding her hands tightly as she began to slightly resent inviting her here. This dress, this awful old dress was not something that she wanted to be seen in by the likes of her.</p><p>“Won’t you introduce us?” Mrs. Greengrass asked, standing up and collecting her items.</p><p>“That won’t be necessary,” Astoria insisted. Daphne, knowing full well of what was going on between Astoria and Hermione ushered their mother to the back to look at dresses on their own to give them space to talk.</p><p>“Oh, hello!” Astoria waved back, calling Hermione closer to her.</p><p>“How are you?” Hermione asked softly, looking over the dress and standing near her as the taller witch examined herself in the mirror.</p><p>“Just perfect,” Astoria nodded. “I’m so happy you were able to come.”</p><p>Astoria took notice that Hermione didn’t say much about being there, or her travel, but was more or less unnerved by being in her presence. Brides, and sometimes the groom, would often ask her to accompany them on their dress and dress robe search, but she hardly thought Astoria needed her opinion, especially not after the Halloween party. Hermione tried to relax though, seeing this as an opportunity for her to do her job, and removed her coat.</p><p>“Have you been looking at dresses long?” Hermione asked, shoving her hands into her back pockets as she studied the one she were currently wearing.</p><p>“Only about thirty minutes, or so,” Astoria lied. “I have quite the options, you know.”</p><p>“And this is one of them,” Hermione asked, her voice trickled in slight disbelief. For a moment, Astoria shot a look in Hermione’s direction, one that showed she hadn’t received her tone too well, but quickly cleaning her expression up when realizing she had become too in tune with her emotions. Hermione’s expression quickly showed guilt as she shifted in place, cocking her head to the side to fully see the concept of the dress. “It’s…beautiful.”</p><p>“Isn’t it,” Astoria smiled, admiring herself in the mirror. Her eyes shifted to Hermione who was visibly uncomfortable being there. Astoria was uncomfortable too, but she knew that if she wanted to restore some type of order back into her life, she would have to make sure that Hermione understood her role in their wedding. “Draco’s family gifted me with a generous budget, but I felt it wouldn’t be fair to overstep any boundaries. It wouldn’t be classy of me or anyone to take advantage in such a way.”</p><p>Hermione blinked a bit and smiled, nodding.</p><p>“Of course. I’m happy that the Malfoys are welcoming you graciously into their family.”</p><p>“Oh, they are,” Astoria nodded. “They love the idea of another, popular Pure-Blood wedding being thrown. You know how they are—tradition is what matters most to them.”</p><p>“So I’ve heard.” Hermione smirked, trying to remain calm and professional, though sensing that something deeper was going on.</p><p>“Mother keeps telling me to keep my options open, but in the end, there can only be one.”</p><p>“One <em>dress.”</em> Hermione spoke.</p><p>“Exactly,” Astoria winked. She stepped away from the mirror to admire the two dresses that had been brought out to her and looked back at Hermione. “Which of these do you think I should wear? And be honest.”</p><p>She watched as Hermione took a few careful steps over towards the options, not really sure what to say. Both of them would look great on Astoria, but it wasn’t her call to make.</p><p>“I can’t really tell you that. I think that whatever dress calls to you and makes you feel special should be the one that you choose.”</p><p>“You see, if I had to pick, I’d choose this one,” Astoria spoke, touching the fabric of the more modern, prettier dress lightly. “But I understand that the Malfoys are traditional. Conservative. So instead, I’ll more than likely go with something vintage and more traditional, to appease them. It wasn’t until recently that I put into perspective that sometimes we don’t always get the things that we want. Sometimes what we want looks pretty and perfect and good for us, but it’s unattainable for a reason. And sometimes we have to do what’s right and what’s fair, without it being what we desire. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”</p><p>Astoria peered at Hermione, noticing the impatience that had started to form, though she didn’t break from her calm demeanor. She had touched a nerve, evidently, and was waiting for a whirlwind of emotion, though was surprised when Hermione in turn asked just a simple question.</p><p>“I’d rather you say what’s on your mind.” Hermione insisted, squaring herself to stand her ground.</p><p>Astoria looked down and then back up at Hermione, appearing contrite that she had upset her, though not genuinely caring.</p><p>“I know that you’ve become quite the confidant to Draco, and I admire that. It makes me happy that someone else sees the good in him that the world does not, and I cannot thank you enough for being his friend.”</p><p>“I can hardly imagine you’d invite me out to thank me for being Draco’s friend.”</p><p>Astoria swallowed hard, not taking her attitude as well as she had hoped she would, and held her hands together tightly, so tight that her knuckles turned white from the action.</p><p>“Did Draco ever tell you about how we first met,” She asked. There was a silence that had come over the two witches as Astoria waited for a response. Instead, Hermione didn’t speak. “Or about how he asked me to marry him?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What about how we first moved in together? Or the time I first met his parents and nearly fainted in the drawing room,” Astoria could feel herself getting upset again, and found it difficult to control the annoyance she felt from having Hermione in her presence. This time, she was glad that Hermione didn’t respond to her rhetorical questions. “My point is…I don’t want an inappropriate friendship going on between you and Draco. Imagine how that would look for him, imagine how that would look for <em>you,</em> an unmarried woman being so close to an engaged man. It would be a terrible blow to your business. You wouldn’t want that, now would you?”</p><p>“Excuse me?” Hermione frowned, a wave of emotion overflowing her.</p><p>“I don’t mean to offend you, Miss Granger,” Astoria spoke, her voice sickly sweet and full of forced assurance. “I only want to make sure that you, me, and Draco are on the same page of where your friendship lies.”</p><p>“If that’s so, then why isn’t Draco here?”</p><p>Astoria pouted at her defiance and shrugged a careless shoulder.</p><p>“Maybe you find it so comforting being friends with Draco because you’ve only grown up with two male best friends, one of whom became your boyfriend, but to be such close friends with a man who will soon be married is unusual.”</p><p>“My best guy friend is getting married. That hasn’t stopped our friendship.”</p><p>Astoria reached over, placing her hand atop of Hermione’s.</p><p>“Hermione, you’ve made yourself a bit too available to Draco, and I’m afraid this friendship has to come to an end. He shouldn’t feel so comfortable coming to you for advice or talking about things that he could easily discuss with me. That is the duty of a partner.<em> I</em> am his partner,” Astoria smoothed her dress out on her lap and cocked her head to the side, keeping a keen eye out for any sort of response. “I do intend to keep you as our planner, considering how well you had your hand at the Halloween party.”</p><p>Astoria watched as Hermione stood up, putting on her coat and heading towards the door, though stopping. Astoria could see the woman from across the shoppe, her demeanor strong and challenging. Hermione wasn’t intimidated with the woman like she had been just the other day, but instead, something grew deep inside of her that caused her to speak out. She didn't know whether or not it were rage, embarrassment, or even frustration from how deeply she was struggling with her feelings for Draco that made it necessary to get the last word in, but the message that Astoria tried to convey was not received well.</p><p>“You know, if you really want your fiancé to open up to you, then maybe you should learn to listen to him, even when he’s not speaking.”</p><p>Hermione left out of the bridal shop with a forceful slam of the door trailing after her. This left Astoria a bit shaken, and she certainly didn’t like it. It was so easy for Hermione to speak her mind in the most ungraceful ways. Did she not care if people looked at her for her outbursts or jabs? Though Astoria felt she had simply exhausted herself from trying to explain her view to Hermione, she prided herself on maintaining her composure. At least she walked away with that under her belt. Just then from the back of the shoppe with dresses in their hands, Astoria watched as her mother and sister came out with pure concern strewn across their faces.</p><p>“Everything alright out here?” Mrs. Greengrass asked, looking around for Hermione but settling on her daughter upon realizing she was alone.</p><p>Astoria plastered an award winning smile on her face to hide both her shame and her worry and looked at her party with a casual shrug.</p><p>“Just some girl chat. That's all.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The days since Hermione last saw Draco dragged on endlessly. Had she not known better, she would’ve assumed it was close to three weeks since their last encounter, but in all reality, it had only been days. Six days exactly, and just a few since she met with Astoria. The more Hermione thought back to the situation, the more she wondered if she should’ve just listened to Ron in the first place and not have taken him as her client. She no longer cared about the money and the plans she had in hope for her and Ron and even Crookshanks after such an event. In fact, it didn’t even matter to her much, anymore. She was disgusted and embarrassed that Astoria had singled her out in this way, attempting to end her friendship with Draco on his behalf. Had he known? Had he sent her? Did their night at the party weigh too heavily on him, and now he was left to associate her face with awkward stares and an elevator dance?</p><p>These days, she never really stayed at her office too much. She spent more time at home, trying new recipes, and trying her hand at redecorating their living spaces, just to get her mind off of Draco and even more-so, Astoria, but to no avail. She had even received a few owls from her former friend, but refused to open them, afraid that they’d be from Astoria, willing to berate her for the comment she tossed her way as she left the bridal shop. And if they were from him, that would be even worse. She didn’t want to think back on what it felt like to be in his arms. She didn’t want to think that she was into Draco in that way. She didn’t want to think about how he said he enjoyed it a bit too much. It was all too devastating for her.</p><p>But though she wasn’t answering his owls, she wasn’t exactly disposing of them, either. Instead, she had found an empty shoebox, and stored them all away in there. There were about seven total…so far. Sometimes she would get one a day, maybe the next day he wouldn’t write at all, and then send out two the day after. As tempted as she was to open them all, she knew that by doing so, it would open a can of worms for everyone involved. She wanted to focus on doing the things that she loved, not on the people that she missed. She wanted to live and not be bound by words from a cruel witch or even Draco’s words. So, she read her Pride &amp; Prejudice book, and wondered in between the pages if Draco had gotten this far or not.</p><p>Damnit, this was going to be difficult.</p><p>She jumped up at the sound of pecking on her window as Crookshanks hissed angrily at the sight of the familiar owl. Even he was fed up with the fan mail coming her way. Hermione sighed to herself and made her way over to the window, Draco’s owl flying into the house that it had grown far too accustomed with and landing near her window. She shooed him away as she so routinely did this entire week and closed the window after he departed.</p><p>Same thing every now and then. A parchment addressed to her, from him. How fun. Hermione headed towards the closet, rummaging on the top shelf that had been cluttered with various miscellaneous items by Ron, was the perfect hiding spot for her letters. Grabbing the box, she added the new parchment to her collection, vowing to read them one day when she was no longer upset, and determined that might not be anytime soon.</p><p>Ready to hide her shoebox, Hermione tried rearranging certain parts of the closet to make the box fit in its former place. With all her might, Hermione jumped up, pushing the shoebox back in place, though groaning as something small and hard hit her on her head.</p><p>“What the hell was that?” She asked to herself, though turning to Crookshanks who seemed just as confused as she were.</p><p>She looked and around on the floor and paused, every hair on her nape prickling her as goosebumps lined her arms. Hermione hadn’t realized it then, but she was shaking at what she had discovered. There on the floor was a small, navy blue box with a breathtaking silver emblem on top. While staring at it, it seemed as though everything else in the room had just suddenly disappeared. Not a single thought or question had come to Hermione just then, except only for the heavy curiosity that flooded her as she processed just what she were bound to see inside. She knelt down by it, picking it up in what felt like slow-motion, though opening the box quickly as soon as it reached her hands.</p><p>Inside of it was a beautiful, pear shaped diamond glistening in the bedroom lights, and illuminating Hermione’s interests. Her first initial reaction was to smile, drunk in all its beauty as she watched it twinkle in her possession. She removed the ring from the box and placed it on her finger, chills rushing up her spine as it fit a bit too tight on her left hand, ring finger. Then, it all became real to her. Ron had finally gotten to the point where he was considering her ideas of their future together, but now, that was the farthest thing from Hermione’s mind. The ring, though beautiful and stunning on her slim fingers, just didn’t feel right to Hermione in a way that was much deeper than the incorrect ring size. Giving a solid answer to Ron if he were to propose to her soon seemed like the hardest thing to do, now, especially considering how she felt about her situation with Draco. In that instance, Hermione even began to feel guilty for even seeing it, let alone trying it on before Ron got the opportunity to present it to her, but she knew the harshest reality when it came to this ring.</p><p>This would be both the first and the last time she would ever see it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello my lovelies! I hope this chapter was enjoyable for you all! I was really stirring the pot in this chapter haha. I loved diving in a bit into Astoria's feelings, how she deals with them, and how her thought process fully worked when thinking of Hermione and Draco. It only gets juicier from here on out so stay tuned! As per usual, I thank you all for your support for SOSN and for sticking through this wild ride with me. NEW CHAPTER: 12/06!!!<br/>Bless! Xx--</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Narcissa and Draco discuss love and marriage as he reminisces on the first time he ever met Hermione.</p>
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    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
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</p><p>Time seemed to have been going both incredibly slow and fast at the same time. Draco’s days seemed to drag on, much longer than he would’ve liked them to, and it didn’t help that his mind was all the more concentrated on a particular person that he hadn’t seen in a little while, now.</p><p>He hadn’t heard from Hermione since the party and hoped that she hadn’t turned her back on him for the things he said and the things he had done, or rather, what he did not do. He had started rethinking the night they shared, replaying everything over in his mind effortlessly. They fought, they talked, they danced, and he almost kissed her, but caught himself before he could even make a move. But he liked it. He liked it all. He liked how she looked at him and how having her so close made him feel. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in…well, ever, actually. And it confused him, causing fits of frustration and worry every now and then. He had even done the unthinkable once before, passing by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while at work, hoping to see Hermione nearby in case she was visiting Ron, and then realized what he was doing.</p><p>Draco was unintentionally fixating on someone who wasn’t even responding to his messages. He often wondered if she read them, all of them in the exact order, trying to make sense of it all with him, just like he was. Most of them were check-ups, making sure that she was okay and that he took accountability for the things he said while deeply emotional. Then, each time after he would send a letter, he would think of Astoria, and a wave of guilt would cross him.</p><p>He knew that she had been busy lately making plans for their wedding. She was trying different hairstyles and always searching for the perfect dress to match her perfect event. And as much as he worried about her, as well, he worried mostly about the silent witch with whom he had grown adamant to see. He detested feeling this way, as much as he welcomed it. He knew that within him, there was something that was plastered inside of him for Hermione but wondered anxiously if that were only due to the stress of the wedding. He had to ask himself all the important and hard questions, just like she told him to do. But sometimes the important questions were just too scary for him. And for that, he felt even more shameful than before he started imposing on his own mental.</p><p>After work, Draco found himself at his mother’s house just as supper had finished. The manor was dark and calm, as it had been for the past few years, now. He had tried his best to keep himself away from the manor. He didn’t want to see it unless absolutely necessary, for fear that it would remind him of his upcoming nuptials. But today, when he found himself most particularly lost, he knew he needed to see his mother.</p><p>She was seated in the drawing room when he found her. Her reading glasses were perched on her delicate nose as she read a copy of The Daily Prophet. Narcissa had clearly been dozing off a bit from the crackle of the fireplace but awoke once catching sight of Draco.</p><p>“Draco, my love, I wasn’t expecting you,” She started, smiling up at him.</p><p>Draco lowered his head a bit, feeling comfort from hearing her voice, but also uncertain of how to ask for advice without making it too obvious of what it related to.</p><p>“I just stopped by on my way home. I wanted to talk to you.”</p><p>Narcissa stood up, concern overpowering her as she stared at her son. She hadn’t seen Draco in this way since he first got his dark mark and task from Voldemort. To see him back in this perplexed mindset alarmed her. Something was evidently wrong.</p><p>“Oh goodness, is everything alright? Should I get your father?”</p><p>“No,” Draco shook his head. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Narcissa guided Draco further into the drawing room to take a seat near her, and only focused on him, despite him looking anywhere but his mother. From since he were a child, Draco knew that his mother and father mastered the art of maintaining order and getting the truth out of him with a single look. It wasn’t surprising to the young man that his mother was using her tried and true tactics on him, right now.</p><p>“You’re not being very honest with me,” She spoke. Narcissa removed her glasses and studied her child. “And yourself.”</p><p>Draco looked up, trying to feign a smile that had not naturally come from him in weeks. All authenticity of him had depleted since before the engagement. He felt grateful to have those select days where he did smile, and with meaning.</p><p>“The wedding is coming up, as you know,” He started, drawing in a breath of hope that as he continued his statement, it wouldn’t give way to anything that was digging into him even further. “I was wondering if you could tell me how you fell in love with father.”</p><p>Narcissa, a bit puzzled by his suggestion, sat back in her seat a bit. A small smile crept on her face as she seemed to recollect her thoughts, looking back at her curious son. She was glowing then, a sight quite beautiful coming from his mother to counter his dark, brooding energy. She had started to ask him if he were sure, but knew that if he didn’t want to know, he wouldn’t have asked. So she tried to fix herself to perfectly set the scene.</p><p>“I had met your father back in Hogwarts. He wasn’t very kind, if I’m being honest. He was two years ahead of me, and when he became Prefect, I was increasingly annoyed by him. God, we would have the filthiest rows all the time for small, silly things. One time my shoes were untied and he called me out for it. Then I was at Hogsmeade with Andromeda and, well, we were laughing a bit too loudly, I assume, and he came over and said that our behavior wasn’t modest enough for the atmosphere. I would threaten to get Bella to hex him if he weren’t careful,” Her smile had diminished a bit as she thought back on her sister who had been long gone. “I’m entirely grateful that she weren’t in Hogwarts, then. I was almost scared she would’ve done it. The hexing.”</p><p>“And then what?”</p><p>“When my sister had first joined forces with the Dark Lord, everyone suspected. It was the unofficial rumor. The whole school knew. Andromeda took the stares and the judgment a bit better than I did because she was older. She would tell me, ‘That’s Bella’s life. Not ours.’ And I would try to tell the other students that, but to no avail,” She frowned. “Then one day, just as a Gryffindor boy in my year had started to berate me for being related to her, Lucius came and stood up for me. It was pretty funny, really. He was always so against me for the smallest things, seeing him defend me was nice for a change.”</p><p>Draco smirked a bit at the story. He knew his father could be proud and often times cold, but she had never thought to see him in this way. They were always so lowkey, especially with each other. To imagine them, in their younger years, fighting was hard to grasp hold of.</p><p>“Did you love him then?”</p><p>“Oh of course not,” She started to laugh at the thought of it. “As a matter of fact, your father and I became good friends <em>after </em>that. Slowly, but surely, we were the best of friends. And when he had left Hogwarts, I was devastated. But he would write to me everyday, about the simplest things, the most trivial things. Things I understood and he didn’t, and vice versa. It wasn’t until the summer after I had finished Hogwarts that were in this very room. He was going on and on about how he had this grand opportunity at the Ministry, and I realized then. I told him, actually I interrupted him, and then told him, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Lucius, but I think I love you’. He kind of looked at me and smiled at what I said and went back to talking.”</p><p>“He didn’t respond to that? At all?”</p><p>“Your father has always been a complex man, Draco,” She smirked. “Feelings and emotions never really bode well with him. We got married soon afterwards, though. I used to think it was out of love, but now I realize I was probably the only woman imaginable that would tolerate him in all his moods.”</p><p>Draco really wanted to laugh at what his mother said. He could tell she was trying to keep the story light. It was far from the fairytale he had thought it was when he was younger. To hear it now was astonishing, and somewhat uncomfortable.</p><p>“Did you mean it when you said you loved him?”</p><p>Narcissa blinked, certainly taken back by his inquiry.</p><p>“I thought I did. Your father was my first everything and I didn’t have many opinions about the world around me. I was still so young when we got married. But, later on as our marriage progressed and after we had you, I knew then what love really was,” Narcissa’s voice was low and reminiscent. She had become intrigued with his continuous questions and began analyzing her son’s face. He was a bit more relaxed than when he first arrived, but still obviously sucked in by his thoughts. “Why the sudden curiosity?”</p><p>Draco shifted in his seat, not really willing to discuss the true nature of his inquisitiveness. How would it possibly look telling his mother that he was torn between <em>feelings</em>?</p><p>“No reason.” He simply shrugged, though paused as he saw his mother leaning forward ever so slightly and eyed him.</p><p>“It’s normal to feel apprehensive about this,” She assured him. Was it? Draco didn’t really know what to think was normal. Everything around him felt so abnormal. Perhaps that was his sense of normalcy. “Getting married is a big step. A grown-up thing to do.”</p><p>“Were you apprehensive?” Draco asked.</p><p>“Terribly so,” Narcissa nodded, though when sensing that that wasn’t what Draco necessarily wanted to hear, she fixed herself to give further reassurance. “Astoria is the perfect, Pure-Blood witch for you. I guarantee that she will make a fine wife and homemaker, and you should learn to appreciate that. And maybe if you don’t feel the love now, it’s alright. You’re doing the right thing by seeking advice, just as long as your interests don’t stray elsewhere.”</p><p>“Where else would they stray?”</p><p>“I’m just saying, my dearest,” Narcissa spoke firmly, yet still so calmly. “Don’t try to force what isn’t there. Love comes in soon. All it takes is patience, and it will come to you. The love will be staring you dead in the face before you can even realize it.”</p><p>“But what does it feel like?”</p><p>A wave of sympathy washed over his mother as she looked at him. Narcissa knew almost instantly that he was craving something, something that wasn’t being given to him already. She had decided then that she was worried for her son, and furthermore for his marriage with Astoria.</p><p>“You’ll know it when it’s there,” Narcissa pulled a temporary smile. “But the most important thing to note right now is not love. Of course, Astoria is the perfect match for you, and you will grow to love her in many different ways, but what really matters is that above all else you are a Malfoy. And your sons and daughters will be Malfoys, to carry on a prominent Pureblood name to Pureblood children.”</p><p>Draco knew that his mother was trying to sell him a dream, a dream that she and his father once shed onto him when he was young, and sadly, it made him think back to when he first met Hermione.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>September 1991</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Seeing so many people around on the platform was new and unusual to the young boy. There were far too many people for his liking, and too much noise and commotion. Draco wouldn’t outwardly say it, but he was scared. He had never been too far from his mum and dad, not even out of sight for too long even when he played with Crabbe and Goyle. But this, this was something different. Even though he knew he would be away from his family until Christmas, it was still so scary. There were older kids that had already formed great friendships and wore their house pins and robes proudly, some with a prominent P on their robes for Prefect. Those would be the people he would rely on for everything during his time away from home. And then the thought sank further into the child. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without hesitation, Draco reached for his mother’s hand and looked away. He was ashamed of himself for being so scared. He looked up at his mum who was smiling and knelt beside him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re going to do so well, my boy. I know you are.” She pulled him into a tight hug and Draco felt that he would never let her go. He couldn’t possibly let her go. But during the hug, he looked up at his father who was scowling at him disapprovingly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s far too much for public, Narcissa,” Lucius scolded, then turning his head away from the sight. He never really could count on his father for any sort of warmth. He had made it a point to think about what it is that his father did. He knew he worked for the Minister doing something, but he also knew that he was adamantly serving the Dark Lord. He hoped that maybe if he could ask his father a bit more about it when he came home, he and his father would have a relationship built on some sort of common interest. But Draco knew how scary it would be to tread into those specific waters. At least with his mother, he could always count on her to understand him and be on his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why, Lucius? I’m frightened, too” She spoke, standing and looking to her husband. “This is the first time we won’t have our Draccy-poo here.” </em>
</p><p><em>“Mum,” Draco’s voice low and disciplinary towards his mother with a blush crossing his face. He wanted reassurance but definitely </em>not<em> like this. </em></p><p>
  <em>“I wonder where Crabbe and Goyle are. They’re always so terribly late.” Lucius snapped. He knew that they had an arrangement where their sons would stick together and be each other’s mates through Hogwarts. It wasn’t an issue, though. Draco had become fond of the two boys, but he wasn’t opposed to making new friends, if he could know how to do it properly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In the crowd, Draco searched for the two familiar faces, hoping endlessly that he would find them and have someone to talk to other than his parents. But, near the platform, Draco saw a family that stuck out to him particularly well. There was a small girl, with hair nearly bigger than herself, and a small, gentle smile stuck on her face. She was pretty, and Draco could feel a fluttering in his stomach that made him just as nervous as before. But what stood out to him was that she was talking kindly to both her parents. Not just one. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She was alone, with no friend around her, and she was dressed in the first year robes that he had. He decided to make it a point to be her friend and hopefully keep her close. He needed all the friends he could get if he were going to be away from home until December. But then, his eyes shifted to her parents, who were tall and odd-looking. But more importantly, they only talked with their daughter and amongst themselves, and didn’t give a single wave or nod to any other adult witch or wizard that passed them by. That was strange.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Father,” Draco spoke, his curiosity peaking. “Do you know who they are?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco watched as his mother and father turned to the family and looked them over. While his father’s face was stuck in silent judgment, his mother broke first and gave a discreet chuckle to herself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think Draco has found a special friend.” She lightly teased with a wink, causing another blush to come from the young boy. He was interested in the pretty girl. But more than anything he wanted to be her friend.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, come now, Narcissa,” Lucius frowned as he turned back to face his family. “Judging by their clothes and the fact they won’t speak to anyone besides their frizzy haired daughter, I’m suspecting that they’re Muggles.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Muggles? Are you sure?” Narcissa asked flatly and in a bit of shock. Draco never really understood what the big deal was. He knew that different witches and wizards had different blood statuses, but he didn’t think that mattered, so long as they were brilliant with their magic. Truthfully, he had come to detest any mentioning of Muggles in his household. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lucius didn’t respond to Narcissa’s question and turned to his son, a stern look on his face that caused Draco’s anxiety to be replaced by timidity. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Let me be clear, Draco,” He began. “If that child is a Mudblood or even so much as a Half-blood, you stay away from her, do you hear me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco didn’t want to hear his father, but as much as he wanted to be this girl’s friend, he wanted his father’s approval most of all. </em>
</p><p><em>“Yes.” Draco swallowed, nodding at his father. Once his parents began talking amongst themselves about how Muggles were </em>infesting <em>the schools and the wizarding world, he took the chance to look back at the girl. To his surprise, her parents were talking amongst themselves as well, and she was now looking at him. When their eyes met, Draco felt himself overcome with nervousness once again at the sight. But all he could do was smile at her, and she smiled back, to his delight. Draco glanced up at his parents who were talking and looked back at the girl, mouthing ‘blah, blah, blah’ to her and making a talking motion with his hands that caused the young girl to grin as she did the same. Then, the train came. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Draco had boarded the train with Crabbe and Goyle and found a compartment with a window facing the  platform as they waved to their parents. It had officially set in that he was on his way to school, without his parents around to accompany him. It was all so new and so different, and he wasn’t quite sure if he were ready for this new adventure yet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Once the train began to move, Draco tried to relax a bit to enjoy the ride, but grew ever more curious about the girl he saw on the platform. He debated greatly on if he should even mention seeing her to his friends who would probably think he were mad for trying to find out more information, but knew it had to work to his benefit somehow. Maybe she was a Muggle, maybe she wasn’t. But either way, he had to know. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Have either of you seen a girl before? She has big, bushy hair and she’s short. Kind of pretty.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Are you looking for your girlfriend?” Crabbe teased as he nudged Goyle with his elbow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shut up,” Draco snapped, now regretting even trying with these two fools. He could hear the shaky wheels of the cart from outside the compartment they were in and watched as an older woman shouted out rather haggardly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Aaanything from the trolley?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco watched from where he sat as the woman passed them by. Sweets sounded good at a time like this. He stood up, digging in his pockets for some galleons and jogged outside into the corridors to catch up to the cart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I want something!” Draco called out, trying to flag her down. The woman stopped and turned around, letting Draco take his pick as he landed on some of Bertie Bott’s jellybeans. He looked down at the box with a satisfied grin and looked up at the compartment that he was stopped in front of. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He stood in shock for a moment, unsure if he were seeing a ghost or the actual embodiment of the girl he had encountered on the platform. Her compartment was closed and she was all by herself which was odd. All the compartments he had come across were nearly full with students, and figured now that it made sense. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pulled open the compartment door which apparently startled her, but she relaxed when realizing it was him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh, it’s you.” She spoke with a satisfied grin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Me?” He asked, confused and looking around as though there has been another student in the compartment behind him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, I remember seeing you on the platform. You made me laugh,” she smirked. Draco could only smile back at her, pleased that he had achieved such an accomplishment. “I’m Hermione Granger.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m Malfoy,” he began. “Draco Malfoy.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why do you do that?” She asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do what?” Draco gripped his box of candy a bit tighter than he wanted to, taken off guard by the pretty witch and her sudden analysis of him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Introduce yourself with your last name first as if it’s more important than your first name.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, my dad does it so I did it,” he confessed. It was true, much like many of the things that he did because his dad influenced him. “He says our name is important.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione thought about it and shrugged, not necessarily getting his point but leaving it alone regardless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Aren’t you going to sit down?” She invited, though somewhat telling him to do so. Whether it be from pure excitement or the momentum of the train, Draco found himself in the seat in front of Hermione instantly. The two sat in quiet, both shy and unsure how to talk to the other. It was clear though that they both wanted to be there together. That’s what mattered most to Draco.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you want some jellybeans?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, my mum and dad would kill me,” she insisted. “It’s bad for your teeth.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So… it’ll ruin my smile. I already need braces.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Braces?” Draco was clearly confused as to anything she was saying, and then his fathers suspicions became true to him. But she was so calm and so relaxed around everyone who was doing magic, he figured she was a Half-blood. That would be okay, wouldn’t it? At least one of her parents could possibly be Pureblood. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“They straighten your teeth.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It sounds painful.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione eyed the jellybean box and then back at Draco who was watching her cautiously, as though she were an alien or terribly fragile. He was nervous and shy, something he wasn’t used to just yet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll try one. But just one.” She caved in and opened her hand out. Draco shook the box onto her hand and watched as she popped a jellybean into her mouth. Hermione’s face twisted at the taste and began looking for a trash bin. Having nowhere to spit it, Hermione forced the candy down her throat, nearly gagging from the candy. “What was that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco erupted in laughter at her expression and looked at the box. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think you just tried a troll bogey flavored one.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yuck!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Some of the rest are good, though.” He smiled at her. He picked through the box and found his favorite. He handed it to her and nodded. “Try this one and tell me what you taste.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can I trust you?” Hermione asked, looking from him to the box to try and see which jellybean he has given her this time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Friends trust each other, don’t they?” Draco got the courage to ask. He returned the grin that Hermione gave once he said those words to her and watched as she plopped the jellybean into her mouth. Soon, her face lit up at the taste.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh! It’s honey!” She grinned. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This continued on for a while until there were nothing left in the box of jellybeans. He was actually getting on with her pretty well. His father was wrong. She wasn’t vile or deceptive. She was kind, and sweet and very funny with stories she told about her summer and her days leading up to Hogwarts. All of which was entertaining to him, countering his dull summer spent kept in his room while his mother and father attended Death Eater meetings just downstairs. Yeah, hearing hers thrilled him more than he could imagine. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you know what house you might be sorted into?” She asked softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, my family is known for being in Slytherin. My dad and his parents, my mum and her sisters. All Slytherin, so I have a pretty good guess.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, that doesn’t determine much,” she spoke. “There have been plenty of people who go into different houses than their parents.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I wouldn’t want that. I know where I belong,” Then, a serious question came over him. He wondered if they would end up together. In the same houses, of course. “What about you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I was doing some research and I figured I wanted to be in Gryffindor. I think it would suit me well. They’re brave and headstrong and—”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Slytherins can be courageous, too,” he defended with a frown. “It’s the best house founded by a noble leader.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There can’t possibly be a best house,” Hermione smirked, “And besides, Salazar Slytherin was god-awful to Muggles and Muggle-Borns.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But that was like a zillion years ago. Nobody really remembers that but you, somehow...” Draco rolled his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“And ridiculous, snobbish imbeciles still believe in his twisted prejudices, today. That Muggles and Muggle-Borns have no place in Hogwarts.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco could feel himself growing tense at her words. She was basically referring to his parents. The parents that did so much to make him who he is today. The parents that loved and cared for him. He was now officially upset with her for her own ignorance. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why should it matter to you,” Draco peered at her, then remembered why he really came to her in the first place. “Are your parents Muggles?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, they are,” Hermione stood up, towering over Draco with narrowed eyes. “And you’re a Pureblood I’m guessing?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Draco stood up too, now neck-and-neck with the young witch. </em>
</p><p><em>“Proudly,” he grimaced. He wanted to tell her off the way he’s seen his father tell off all the other blood traitors that he knew, but knew he wasn’t just like his father. But maybe that was his issue. Maybe he never had a closeness with his father because he </em>wasn’t<em> like him. More than anything, he craved that closeness with him more than he wanted to be Hermione’s friend. He turned away from her quickly and started towards the compartment door. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Where are you going?” She called out to him, causing him to turn around and glare at her, though stopping when seeing the innocence on her face. He felt bad for the fact he was leaving her alone, but ultimately he knew that even if they moved past their dumb fight, it wouldn’t make any sense to be friends with the likes of her. She was too different from him, and he knew that his parents would never approve of their friendship.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Away from here,” He started. “I can’t be your friend.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Draco came back from his thought process and sighed at the memory. He hated remembering his first time meeting Hermione this way. But it was, and he hated how much this part of him had been molded by his family and their poor excuses for family values. It was also at this precise moment Draco knew that no matter what, his parents would only ever care about his marriage, so long as it were to a Pureblood family. He had began to wonder what made Astoria so perfect to his mum and dad, besides her Greengrass name and blood status. He wondered if his family even liked her, or truly thought they were compatible. And thus, Draco had left the manor feeling worse than when he first arrived.</p><p> </p><p>Draco had arrived back home in his flat, considering his mother’s words and their conversation that they had. Although he was a bit relieved to have gotten some of what worried him off of his chest, there was still so much lingering within him. He thought about Astoria, and how great she was. He wasn’t ignorant to it. But something turned inside of him that made him believe he wouldn’t get to have what his mother and father had. To be fair, though, Draco was somewhat positive that he didn’t want that. He wanted to have something in his life long-term that he knew he could grow with, not out of sheer hope that he would. He wanted to know what it felt like to get married while in love. He wanted to know what it felt like to<em> love</em> and be loved, but more importantly, when he thought about exploring the complications and intricacies of love, only one person came to mind, and she wasn’t even talking to him.</p><p>Draco stepped into his room, seeing Astoria sitting at his writing desk, who turned around and greeted him with a wide smile. She was addressing their wedding invitations, all two-hundred and something of them by herself. And though the task to Draco seemed tedious and quite boring, but to Astoria, she seemed to have been enjoying herself. In the event of looking at his fiancée, Draco noticed something odd about their bedroom. Hanging on the back of their closet door was what Draco could only think was her wedding dress, which was concealed in a dress bag, making it hard to pick out the design or look of it.</p><p>Astoria stood up quickly and walked over to give him the routine kiss on the cheek, and held his hands.</p><p>“I found a dress,” Astoria beamed. She was happy and glowing and completely overjoyed. But as much as he used to take an interest in that, now all he could do was feel this enormous amount of guilt within him for feeling the way he did. “It’s marvelous and I can’t wait for you to see it. But only on our wedding day, you know the rules.”</p><p>Draco watched as Astoria went on and on, nearly describing the dress in such detail that he figured he had an image so clear that he could already picture her in it. And the mental image was so frightening to him. She was beautiful, yes, but damnit, how could he hurt her like this? He started to think back to what his mother had said, about love and marriage, and even Astoria. <em>Love comes in soon.</em> He could choose to wait for himself to fall in love with her, like how his parents did, or he could be honest with her and himself about his feelings.</p><p>He was not in love with Astoria.</p><p>But still, Astoria’s bright smile was something he was far too tired with wiping off her face. Draco found himself growing increasingly warm as the conversation shifted from Astoria’s wedding dress, to how half of the invitations had gone out already. Their wedding was officially real to all the guests who would soon RSVP. Now, everyone just waited to get their invitation. Draco could feel himself growing sad at the thought. He was drowning and no one seemed to realize.</p><p>Without much thought, Draco pulled Astoria close and hugged her. He hugged her so tight, with all the desperation and need of comfort he could imagine from a friend, and also feeling like he owed some sort of human interaction to the trying woman.</p><p>“Are you alright,” Astoria asked, shocked by his action, though pleased. She had taken this as a small victory for her, considering the efforts she had put forth to make sure their connection was unbreakable. “Rough day at work?”</p><p>“You have no idea.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Another day, another chapter! I do apologize for how late I'm posting. I'm in NYC currently so I'm posting around 6PM EST. I try to post earlier in the day but in between doing a final edit, I had another idea to toss into this chapter, and thus the process became longer than intended. But it is the first Draco-centered chapter revolving around his current feelings for Hermione and his past feelings of when he first met her. Let me know how you all enjoy this one. I will be posting again tomorrow (12/07), due to the fact that I go back to work on 12/08. It's a long work day for me on Tuesday and I won't have time to post so I decided to put one out early for you all! But that's enough rambling. I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for keeping up with me and SOSN! You are all appreciated for the positive feedback, kudos, and so on!! Cheers!--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione talk for the first time since the Halloween party, but are interrupted in the process, leading to the ending of one of the relationships.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ever since Hermione had spotted the ring last week, she had tried to see if somewhere, she could find it in her heart to say yes, if he were to ask, or the courage to say no if she felt it. To be completely honest, Hermione was sure of what she would say, but more importantly than that, it was finding out when or how to do it. She had weighed out her options and asked herself every question pertaining to Ron, and their future, and what she saw for them long term. How funny how things can change, is the one thing Hermione thought of lately. Just months ago, she was ready and willing to give the rest of her life to spending it with Ron. But her once idea of Mr. Right had unfortunately become Mr. Right Now. The thought pained her, it truly did. She knew that if she didn’t say yes, she would ultimately terminate a friendship with Ron, no matter how gently she declined. But she knew that she would have to bring up this conversation with him at some point, before he decided to plan a large Weasley event and propose to her, then. Anything to soften the blow would have been preferred.</p>
<p>Considering the incoming owls from Draco, it didn’t make her decision making any easier with the constant reminder that he was ultimately the reason she had discovered Ron’s plan. As much as she didn’t want to talk to him, she also very much did. But she knew that before any conversation could be had with Draco, she needed to have the important one with Ron, first. So, she ceased staying at home and came back to her office, rearranging files and documents, receipts and vendor lists without magic, just to give herself something to do in order to feel busy. This was the one thing that helped Hermione feel in control.</p>
<p>She stumbled over boxes that had photos and lovely cards from happy couples, thanking her for her services, and even a “thank you” note from Kingsley. It felt good to be appreciated for all her efforts, but she wondered often if she needed to return to the Ministry. Wedding planning is what got her into this mess, and she felt that she needed a break from it. This saddened her, though. Her one escape from the remnants of her past had been wedding planning, and here she was face-to-face with one of them, and falling for Draco, in the process. She had accepted this, even if it came as a bit of a blow to her.</p>
<p>From the sitting room came a loud swoosh, alerting her of someone’s presence. She had been expecting Ron during his lunch hour so they could talk. She hadn’t planned on talking about the ring here, or today at that. Hermione just genuinely felt that she needed to talk to someone. And not about anything that happened. Just to talk. To hear someone else’s thoughts aside from her own.</p>
<p>Hermione smoothed out her dress and walked quickly to the drawing room, a large smile on her face to greet her boyfriend. Yet, all smiles and color was drained from her as she saw Draco standing there. He looked awful, like he hadn’t been sleeping well and was overworked. His mouth was in a pronounced frown, and he stood tall and brooding, almost resembling the younger version of himself that he had been back at Hogwarts.</p>
<p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Hermione asked. That was the wrong question that had escaped her. She wanted to ask if he were alright, and why he looked so disheveled, but she couldn’t focus on that. Not now.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t answer any of my owls.” Draco spoke, taking a few steps closer to her, though Hermione took a few steps away from him, instead.</p>
<p>“I’ve been busy,” She lied. Well, it wasn’t actually a lie. She had been busy thinking. Thinking about the ring, thinking about Astoria, thinking about reading his owls and thinking about responding. “You shouldn’t be here.”</p>
<p>“I just wanted to know that you’re alright.”</p>
<p>“Why would you,” Hermione spoke, turning away from him and walking to her kitchenette. She began boiling hot water and stopped when hearing Draco’s footsteps behind her. “We aren’t friends anymore.”</p>
<p>“What,” Draco’s face twisted at the absurd comment. “Since when?”</p>
<p>“Since Astoria…” Hermione contemplated speaking out at what Astoria had done. Inviting her out under false pretenses and insulting her in the process. “It doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Hermione,” Draco reached towards her hand, though feeling grim when watching her snatch it away so quickly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…I just don’t know what’s going on.”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing worth discussing.” She insisted coldly, using her wand to pour two cups of tea, one for her and one for Ron, and sending them to her office desk with a wave of her wand.</p>
<p>Draco’s brows furrowed at the sight and looked Hermione over.</p>
<p>“Expecting somebody?” His voice hinted with a tone of uncertain jealousy and intrigue.</p>
<p>“As a matter of fact, I am,” Hermione spoke, turning away from him. “And you shouldn’t be here alone. Not without your fiancée.”</p>
<p>“I’m not thinking about the fucking wedding, right now!” Draco nearly shouted, though caught hold of his own temper and tamed it in the process.</p>
<p>“Well you should be,” Hermione pouted. “You have someone who loves you very much. Someone who’s a Pureblood and can relate to your family’s values. That’s why they adore her, don’t they? You should be happy about that.”</p>
<p>Draco’s eyes narrowed at her words, hearing a hint of something unlike Hermione and more like the words that would come from his mother or father, or even from Astoria if given the opportunity. Then, it all started making sense.</p>
<p>“What did Astoria say to you?”</p>
<p>“She told me not to be your friend anymore, that our friendship is inappropriate. That we’re too close and that it wouldn’t look good for my business being so close to a married man,” Hermione started. “That night in the elevator…did you tell her anything?”</p>
<p>“No, I swear,” Draco shook his head. “I just don’t understand why she would do that.”</p>
<p>“Is it that hard for you to understand,” Hermione shouted. “You’re giving her a reason to believe that something is going on between us.”</p>
<p>“But nothing <em>is </em>going on with us.” Draco spoke. Hermione stared at him with eyes so intense even he had trouble holding the gaze. She was hurting because she knew it was true. Nothing was going on between them, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want there to be.</p>
<p>“I need you to leave,” Hermione spoke. “I can’t continue this friendship at the expense of my business.”</p>
<p>“Wait, Hermione,” He spoke, reaching for her hand again but stopping before he touched her. He had started wondering why this had become such a familiar thing for him to do; touching her. It just felt all too natural to him. “Is it because I told you I liked dancing with you?”</p>
<p>“Look,” Hermione spoke, her voice shaky. “You were drunk, and you didn’t mean it. It’s fine.”</p>
<p>“But I wasn’t drunk,” Draco swallowed, looking her square in the eye, now. “And I <em>did</em> mean it. It’s just that when I was with you, I felt something different. I don’t know. It’s all new to me and I never felt any of this before. It’s scary and I just… FUCK!”</p>
<p>Hermione bit her lip, forcing back tears as she looked at him. Clearly he wasn’t taking this as well as she thought he would be.</p>
<p>“Draco your wedding is next month,” She spoke, breathlessly. “You’re confused. I’m confused. I don’t want to be the person you latch onto because you’re anxious about commitment. Now please just lea—"</p>
<p>A loud sound came from the sitting area. From the kitchenette, the pair looked in the direction, and Hermione’s heart dropped. She watched as Ron stepped out with a small Muggle lunchbox. A lunchbox she had given to him long ago as a joke, but to see him actually utilizing it sent her off rails. Her stomach twisted, and she was sure she would vomit right in front of both men, but she didn’t. All she could do was stand and watch as Ron came over slowly.</p>
<p>“Hermione,” He asked, his voice careful yet alarmed. “What’s he doing here?”</p>
<p>“Ron, I was…we were just,” She stopped speaking once noticing as Ron drew his wand, causing Draco to do the same. The two wizards gradually walked to each other. Hermione hitched a breath and watched them, nervous about what would transpire.</p>
<p>“I thought I told you to stay away from her.” Ron spat.</p>
<p>“Let’s not make any mistakes here that we might regret, Weasley.”</p>
<p>“You’re trying something, aren’t you? Trying to get information about your slick mum and dad by coming to my girlfriend’s place of work,” Ron’s grip on his wand tightened as he glared at the man who returned his same look. “Hermione get behind me!”</p>
<p>“Stop it! Both of you just stop it!” She spoke, wedging herself in between the both of them. From her position in between them both, she took it upon herself to shove them away from each other before it got any worse. She took notice of the confusion in Ron’s eye and knew that she would have a ton of explaining to do, but that didn’t need to be addressed with their third-party present. She turned to Draco who still had a good grip on his wand and stepped towards him. “Draco, you need to leave.”</p>
<p>Her voice was harsh and stern, but once Draco pulled his eyes away from Ron and onto the witch he had grown to adore, he decided to listen. He tucked his wand back inside his inner coat pocket, and was gone right before their eyes. At the absence of his presence, Hermione drew in a long, shaky breath, slowly turning around to see Ron who was staring at her, confused and upset.</p>
<p>“What was that all about?” He asked in his tensest voice yet.</p>
<p>Hermione swallowed hard as her eyes darted to every part of him. His red hair that had been tossed by the wind, his rosy cheeks from the cold, down to his hands, also reddened by the chill in the air. From where she stood, Ron looked like an upset child, having just been told no by his parents as he awaited a logical explanation. But, above all else, Hermione didn’t want to have this conversation with him right now, though she knew she had to.</p>
<p>“Which part?” She asked, genuinely wanting to know where his curiosity had started to lie.</p>
<p>“How about the beginning?” He asked, his voice full of sarcasm to her question.</p>
<p>Hermione walked past him and into her office, turning to wait for him to enter. It was so strange seeing Ron here. She hadn’t really input him into her work schedule like this. And today, of all days, was supposed to be her chance of having a good balance between them, before the hard conversations started to sink in. She offered him a seat which he carefully took and sat beside him instead of in her usual seat. In that moment, Hermione wondered what type of couple they looked like, considering she had seen a number of them coming in and out of her office in the past. Some had revealed their deepest parts of themselves to her, both willingly and unwillingly. She had even gone as far as to become one couple’s pre-marital therapist, though unintentionally. Needless to say, she would give anything to see what they looked like from her own point of view.</p>
<p>“Though it might not come as much of a surprise to you, but I decided to take Draco as my client.”</p>
<p>Ron’s sigh eventually turned into a low, annoyed growl at the sound of her confession. Every muscle in her body tensed up, and just his reaction alone made her regret even saying anything.</p>
<p>“Hermione, I told you that he couldn’t be trusted. I told you how he acted when he came to my office, didn’t I?”</p>
<p>“But I decided on this before his parents’ probation was in question,” She spoke up. “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you the full story.”</p>
<p>“But you’re supposed to be honest with me. About everything. Not telling me is pretty much the same as lying, isn’t it,” Hermione failed to look at him and answer his question. She knew he was upset, and he had the right to be. “Is there something you need to tell me?”</p>
<p>“What,” Hermione asked, perplexity falling out of her. “Ronald Weasley, what is that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>“Do you like the git, or something?” He spoke. “Because you called him<em> Draco </em>so effortlessly, pushed us away from each other instead of getting behind <em>me</em>, and you neglected to tell me that you were helping him plan his wedding. His wedding’s been in the paper all summer! You kept this from me for almost five months!”</p>
<p>“Ron nothing is going on with Draco and I,” Hermione insisted. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get mad.”</p>
<p>“I’m mad because you <em>didn’t</em> tell me.” Ron huffed. He ruffled his hands through his red tresses and shook his head in disbelief. This was bad. Really bad. “And I’m mad because you’ve insisted on marrying me, yet you felt like you couldn’t tell me the one thing that you’ve been working on for months. How are we supposed to maintain a relationship without that type of communication?”</p>
<p>“It’s much more complicated than that,” She spoke. “You hate him so whole heartedly, and I couldn’t find out how to explain to you that he and I became acquaintances. One would even call us friends.”</p>
<p>Ron’s eyes widened at her revelation and he scoffed as he looked at her.</p>
<p>“<em>Friends?</em> Draco Malfoy is not your friend, Hermione. He’s a Death Eater, he watched as Hogwarts got destroyed, and he let you get that horrid scar on your arm.”</p>
<p>Hermione blinked away the tears that had began to form in her eyes. She wanted to tell him about all the laughs she and Draco had shared, all the lunch breaks just sitting in silence and enjoying the other’s company, how he bought her favorite book for her birthday, and how easy it was to understand him now, considering everything he endured under the command of Voldemort. But, knowing that information wouldn’t help her case, she tucked that reasoning back inside of her.</p>
<p>“He was scared.” She spoke softly.</p>
<p>“And so was I. But I didn’t turn a blind eye to my fear. I tried to save you.”</p>
<p>“You don’t understand.” Hermione watched as Ron stood up abruptly, pacing her office, his head flurried with thoughts.</p>
<p>“No, I get it, now. All this time, I had thought that you finally got over the war. I saw the way you blossomed. You were happier these past few months. Glowing, even. You were<em> you</em> again. Now, to think it were all because of Malfoy? I don’t know how I can handle that. How do you expect me to think that the woman I want to marry has become happier because of someone I detest?”</p>
<p>There it was. The first hint of marriage that she had heard out of Ron since their argument back in July. But the word that once would’ve sounded so sweet to her was riddled in spite and bitterness. It sounded ugly and unforgiving on his tongue.</p>
<p>“Ron,” She spoke, trying to get his attention after some silence. “Ron, sit down.”</p>
<p>Ron stalked back over to the chair, giving some distance between himself and his girlfriend as he looked at her.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I know you bought me a ring,” She started, feeling her world shatter as she spoke of this. Hermione stole a quick glance at Ron, who wasn’t even showing any emotion on his face. To him, anything was possible at this point, and he felt it would’ve been silly to think otherwise. “I saw it, and I tried it on. And it was so beautiful but, I just don’t think the ring you bought is meant for me.”</p>
<p>“So you want another engagement ring on top of all this? Bloody hell, Hermione,” Ron started.</p>
<p>“That’s not what I’m saying,” Hermione’s voice was shrill and sharp. “What I’m saying is that I can’t marry you, Ron.”</p>
<p>For the first time since his stoic behavior, Hermione saw Ron’s face change. The once blank and dark man was now lighter, even shocked at the protest of a proposal he hadn’t even gotten the chance to make, yet.</p>
<p>“Look, ‘Mione, if it’s about the fight, I’ll get over it. I just need time for that.” His voice was softer this time</p>
<p>“No,” Hermione shook her head, tears now streaming down her face. It felt like the only thing she could do right these days were cry. “Ron, it wouldn’t be fair of me to marry you. Not like this. Not in this way.”</p>
<p>The man just sat there, absorbing her words and taking in her tears. There was too much moving within him that made him think about them. He didn’t ponder on everything that he had done in the past, or all the things she did, either. There wasn’t a single argument that he could think of that would have brought her to this. So, he settled on the only thing that made sense to him right now. The only thing that he felt could possibly be true, even if only slightly.</p>
<p>“Do you have feelings for him?” He waited a little while for a response, and in that time, he studied Hermione. She was fidgeting with her fingers, not even maintaining eye contact with him. He knew her all too well. He knew that she liked ketchup on her eggs sometimes, and that when reading a good book, she often forgot to eat. Ron knew that she loved dangerously hot showers and taking naps in the jumpers he found itchy but weren’t itchy to her. Unfortunately, he also knew that no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her, she would never truly give him a reason as to why. She was honest, yes. She would happily give her wanted and unwanted opinion when she felt fit, but she wouldn’t dare say something out of order that she knew would hurt you deeply. That just wasn’t Hermione. So, in her silence, he knew her answer, though unofficially.</p>
<p>He stood back up, steadying himself from the fight and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. But, Hermione couldn’t let him leave. Not without saying something important to him that genuinely came from the heart.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” Her voice whispered out the plea, dreading every moment of what she had endured, and now, what he had endured. But despite it all, despite their discussion, it was the only thing that she could possibly find herself able to say to him. And with that, he had apparated out of her office, leaving the witch in a whirlwind of emotions.</p>
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  <strong>HARRY</strong>
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<p>It had been a while since Harry felt caught in the middle between Hermione and Ron, and he had to admit that he hated it. Part of him had figured that they would always be together. Even throughout the rough patches, but the way Ron described it, it wasn’t a rough patch. It was a complete ending. A cold, world shattering, confusing ending. Harry knew that something awful had to have transpired for Ron to have packed some of his essentials. But in reality, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He heard Ron’s theories as to why, but they were just theories if there weren’t anything else evident to back it up. Whenever things got confusing with them, they got harder with all of them, excluding Ginny. So, it wasn’t much of a surprise to Harry when he saw Hermione’s owl asking to come over when the time permitted.</p>
<p>At his dining room table was Hermione, tears stained on her face and eyes bloodshot as she had just finished crying, and he had just brewed her some chamomile. It was late, and he knew that she needed something to help calm her nerves and relax her. But by having her there in his home, with both Ron and Ginny upstairs sleeping and unaware to her presence, he knew he was taking quite the risk in having her over.</p>
<p>Harry quietly walked over, giving her the cup of tea and sat next to her. Hermione whispered a soft thank you to her best friend, and all he could do was wait. Wait for her words, wait to hear her part of the story and how it went. There were always two sides to every story, and sometimes even more.</p>
<p>“Is Ginny mad?” Hermione asked softly, her eyes glancing at the staircase for any sight of the woman coming down towards them, but relaxed when feeling the silence.</p>
<p>“She’s not…mad. She’s confused, more than anything. We all were, actually. I think the proper word in place of mad is upset because she really thought it would work out with you two.”</p>
<p>Hermione sighed a bit as she stared at her cup of tea.</p>
<p>“And Ron?” She managed to force out, though became scared when asking about him, altogether.</p>
<p>“Ron is convinced that you and Malfoy have some sort of secret relationship going on,” He started, then pausing as he got more concrete in his point. “He said he asked if you had feelings for him and that you didn’t say anything.”</p>
<p>“Draco is my friend,” She insisted softly. “You wouldn’t believe how much we’ve bonded over the war and how he’s helped me come to terms with so much. It felt good having someone to honestly relate to about what we dealt with.”</p>
<p>There was a silence that came over the two friends. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask, but knew he didn’t have any place in asking them. He was already caught in between both of them, and didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to know more than he needed to. Still, her inability to confirm or deny his question and Ron’s speculations didn’t go unnoticed to the wizard.</p>
<p>“Ginny and I were thinking,” He began fidgeting with his fingers, unsure how to explain this to the already heart-broken girl. “With all the added stress of your breakup just five days ago, we wouldn’t want to bother you with planning our wedding. You’re already planning Malfoy’s and then ours. I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.”</p>
<p>“It’s not overwhelming me,” Hermione spoke, though the way she looked tonight could easily be seen as unconvincing, at best. “The Malfoy wedding will take place on December 31<sup>st</sup>. Once that's over, I'll be able to fully commit to yours, Harry.”</p>
<p>Harry knew that deep down, with how Hermione was feeling, that she needed to keep busy in order to not drive herself into complete insanity, and that it wouldn’t be fair to take back their offer, considering that she and Ron had just broken up days ago. It would look like they were taking Ron’s side.</p>
<p>Harry tried to smile at the young witch, assuring her that everything would be alright, but mostly that he was there as her friend, unconditionally.</p>
<p>“You sure?”</p>
<p>Hermione returned the weak smile and nodded, some of her wavy hair falling in her face.</p>
<p>“I can handle this.”</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Okayyy! So now we're finally getting somewhere! Haha! I was originally supposed to post this one on 12/8, but because of a work situation I decided that I wanted to post Ch. 15 chapter early on. Thanks so much for following and catching up with me. All of your support is astronomical! NEXT UPDATE: 12/09! Enjoy, stay safe, and be well, my lovelies! Xx--</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione opens up about her feelings and gives Draco some advice while making a crucial decision about her career, in the process.</p>
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  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
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</p><p>The snow fell ever so graciously outside Hermione’s office window, temporarily relieving her of the feeling that she had no real grasp on the things she felt she used to control so easily. She needed all the courage she could muster to deal with today’s meeting. It would be her first time seeing Draco since Ron walked in on their discussion, and certainly the first time she would be seeing Astoria since their conversation. She dreaded the fact that she had booked this appointment well in advance. She always made sure to meet up more frequently with her clients in the weeks leading up to their big day, but despite the difficulties she were receiving from both the bride and the groom, she wanted this meeting to be done as soon as possible.</p><p>Hermione had began to grow cold and hardened to the idea of Draco Malfoy being someone she had feelings for. If she had it her way, she would have seen the ring that Ron was giving her, and tucked it safely back in the closet, pretending she never saw it as she anxiously waited for him to propose. But no. Because of him, and their friendship, and their bond, she had to deter from her original plans that she had so carefully written out for herself. But what was it about their bond that drew them into each other so adamantly? Her love for Ron had grown for so long, but she felt that she were waiting for a miracle trying to get him to propose. But it wasn’t just Ron’s timing. It was the fact that she had found a calm from her own inner battle whenever she spent time with Draco. It was this unfamiliar familiarity that she had found when with him. It was the light in his eyes that alluded to much more than the cruel child she had “known” long ago. He understood her. And even seeing him in his most difficult moments, she understood him, too. She understood that he was confused and that he had no idea what was going on. Hell, she barely did, too. But she ultimately knew that it was nothing she had ever experienced.</p><p>From behind her, Hermione could hear the swoosh coming from the sitting room, and simultaneously felt her stomach drop and her heartrate quicken. With her nerves now in full control, Hermione at first started for the door to meet them in the sitting room but stopped herself before leaving the office. She gave her office a final look around, trying to find something to do or get her hands on to ward off her trembles, but instead settled at her seat in her desk. </p><p><em>I can handle this.</em> The words she spoke to Harry just last night rang in her head repeatedly, and soon realized she was trying to convince herself.</p><p>From where she sat, she could hear Astoria’s heels and their indistinct chatter as they neared her office. Hermione stood to greet them with a perfectly practiced smile and paused once taking note of the couple as they came into her office. Standing tall, as usual, was Astoria who sported a sly smile upon entering. And to her side was Draco, whose face was stoic and just as plain in the same way when the couple arrived in her office during their first ever meeting. But it wasn’t the fact that the two had such very different faces on, it was that they were coordinating so loudly that it was hard for anyone to not notice. They were both carefully fashioned in black and green, a nod to their Slytherin colors, leaving Hermione to quickly feel like the “other”. There was even a brooch on Astoria’s coat with a silver, cursive ‘M’ on her left, just over her heart.</p><p>
  <em>I can’t handle this.</em>
</p><p>Hermione had remembered that she was at work, in a professional environment, but still found herself gawking at the couple. In her entire time planning their wedding, they never showed any sort of solidarity with one another. They were always seen as individuals, and now they were a unit. Hermione tried to force any type of friendly greeting to the two, but was caught in total speechlessness. What else was there to say? Clearly Draco had made his mind up about what it is that he wanted.</p><p>“Hello Miss Granger,” Astoria smiled as she sat at the other side of the desk. “Lovely of you to meet with us.”</p><p>“I just wanted to make sure we’re all set with what needs to be completed before your wedding,” Hermione was slightly glad that Astoria had broken the ice and spoke first, especially with how she was feeling. Explaining her intentions to the pair, she found it hard to focus on them visually. She didn’t want to look at Draco when she spoke, and she certainly didn’t want to look at Astoria, but she settled on the young woman, for fear that if she stared too long at Draco, that she would fall into her feelings once again.</p><p>“Oh yes, we’re quite alright,” Astoria nodded, looking at Draco for support in her answers, though not receiving anything. “We still have to send out the invitations and Draco has to get his dress robes. I’ve gotten my dress, as you know.”</p><p>Hermione grimaced at her last statement and turned to Draco who was now looking at her, solemn and conflicted, though the planner remained unchanged.</p><p>“There’s a new shoppe down in Hogsmeade for dress robes. Many are of good quality, if you wanted to search there,” She started, but then turned back to Astoria. “And the food? Have you gotten the menu?”</p><p>“No, not me. The house elves will take care of it. My mother is bringing over her help, as well,” Astoria explained, then looked at Hermione. “You’re welcome to come, Miss Granger.”</p><p>Astoria ruffled in her purse and handed over a beige and gold envelope. On the front was her name, written in beautiful gold ink and in cursive. By far, the fanciest invitation she had received from any of her clients. Actually, she had never received an invitation from her clients before. It was always just a given that she would be there on the day, ensuring that everything would be alright. But to be invited was something of a shock to her. She wanted to thank her for offering, but the words just couldn’t come out of her mouth. Instead, she just smiled and placed the invitation on her desk.</p><p>As the conversations about the day continued on for a few more minutes, with only Hermione and Astoria contributing their input, the planner remained at her desk as her clients walked out and into the sitting area. She needed a moment, to gather herself and her thoughts. She was helping plan the wedding of the man that she fancied. How much more deranged could this be?</p><p> </p><p>When their discussions had finished and she was once again alone in her office, Hermione let out a great sigh. She was letting all traces of tension and wedding leaving her, silently applauding herself for not losing herself in the process. Maybe this could be easier than she anticipated. From where she sat, she could hear the swoosh coming from her sitting room, and closed her eyes. She was totally alone now, and was enjoying every minute of it. In this solitude, though, she thought back continuously on the fight she had with Draco and Ron. She could still hear herself begging Draco to leave and to not dishonor his fiancée, and then explaining to Ron, in this very room that she couldn’t marry him. It was hard coming back to her office after all of this, and she had even started to wonder if she wanted to continue down this path; both career-wise and emotionally. Maybe she was running from the war, and had tried to ignore its shadows, but stumbled upon Draco, the one person she related to most about it. Just thinking about him and seeing how unreceptive he was to her when she tried to talk to him just made her miss him even more, even when they were sharing the same room. The ache she felt inside of her from her longing grew to be too insignificant, as she realized she was retreating back into her old ways. She insisted on reminding herself to not get too emotionally involved, and realized that it were too late for such warnings.</p><p>With Hermione’s eyes closed, she jumped at the knock that came from her door, and turned to face the source.</p><p>Draco.</p><p>Hermione stood up in confusion and curiosity, looking behind him to see if Astoria were anywhere to be found.</p><p>“I thought you left.”</p><p>“Astoria did,” he confessed, his eyes not moving from Hermione. His gaze proved to be too much for her, and she brushed past him and into her sitting room. Draco followed in behind her, his hands in his coat pocket. “How are you?”</p><p>“I’m perfectly fine,” Hermione shrugged, trying to curve her voice to hide her true emotions. “Why?”</p><p>Draco scoffed at the witch’s question and drew nearer, keeping a respectable distance between them.</p><p>“Because the last time I was here, your boyfriend almost hexed me.”</p><p>“Well, that’s nothing you need to worry about any longer,” She spoke, though noticing his furrowed brows and frown. He was trying to decipher what she meant as Hermione’s tired eyes met his. “Ron and I broke up.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Draco’s voice was mellow and calm. He didn’t know what to properly say that wouldn’t set Hermione off. It had only been days since he was last here, and he feared another argument before getting the chance to properly verbalize what was on his mind. “Is that why you’re acting so distant?”</p><p>Hermione sighed and looked the man over. He was genuinely concerned and calm, which riled her up inside. How could he be so dense?!</p><p>“I’m distant because I’m maintaining a professional relationship with my client.”</p><p>“We can still be friends,” He insisted. “Professionally.”</p><p>“Draco,” She started, breaking their eye contact. “That’s impossible right now.”</p><p>“It’s impossible if you don’t talk to me.”</p><p>“And say what,” She asked, feeling unnerved now that time was ticking. All she could think about was that he was here with her, and not with Astoria. Sooner or later, his bold fiancée would start to wonder where he’s run off to and strut back into her office for a verbal rematch. “What could you possibly want me to say?”</p><p>“I really don’t know. Just say anything. I just want to look at you and hear your voice and—”</p><p>“Don’t you dare say another word,” Hermione spoke in a stern whisper. “Just don’t.”</p><p>“Hermione, I need to know what it is that I’m feeling. I need to know what you’re feeling,” He was nearly pleading at this point. When he saw that she wasn’t giving him an answer, he took a few steps towards the witch, who was looking at him now with big, beautiful yet solemn eyes. “I need to know that you don’t hate me.”</p><p>Hermione stood on his words for a moment, trying to find the right ways to properly convey what it is that she was dealing with. She knew she had feelings for Draco, but she also knew that she hadn’t gotten the chance to organize them properly. All she knew, though, was that she felt a fire light up inside her whenever she thought of him. Even when she was angry at him.</p><p>“I don’t hate you, Draco. And if you <em>must</em> know, I happened to enjoy our time in the elevator,” Hermione started, feeling her heart race as she became breathless from her upcoming outpour. “And all the times that we’ve shared before then. All the times where we would just talk, all the times where we would just be still. It’s all heaven to me. And as it so happens, I may have found it within me to develop feelings for you. Romantic feelings that reminded me of Spring, when flowers would just start to bloom, and the sun would kiss your skin at the same time that goosebumps would line it,” Hermione huffed out the words like they had just controlled her tongue. She inhaled deeply and recollected herself. “Happy?”</p><p>With reddening cheeks, Hermione took the chance in their silence to study Draco’s reaction closely. His eyes were peering at her, glossy and equally as sad as her own. To Hermione, it looked as though Draco wanted to shed a tear or two and found that she was waiting and watching his face for any sign that he would. But he didn’t. Instead, he let his eyes shift off to the side, clearly taking in everything that she said, but not saying any other word in response to her. And as much as she wanted to hear something similar coming from him, she knew that she wouldn’t get it. She didn’t know if she ever would get it from him, and thought that maybe it were for the best, no matter how much Hermione wanted to hear it.</p><p>“Hermione,” he started, refocusing back on the witch. He grabbed her soft hands in his own, gently caressing them as he stared at her. Hermione had coached herself the night before to stand her ground and remain strong against him, even when she found him slipping further into her heart. But, she let him hold her hands. The smallest act of intimacy was enough, just nearly enough to give her some sort of comfort in the unknown. Then, as quickly as it came, Hermione saw Draco’s once painfully vibrant eyes dim, and knew that he had chosen occlumency to rid himself of any further emotion for today. His grip on her hands softened until he let them gently drop. “I should go.”</p><p>In a flash of green flames, the young man was gone, out of her sitting room and out of sight. Hermione stood there long after he left her, replaying everything that circled in her mind, from the looks he gave her to the tone of his voice. He was troubled, deeply troubled by something Hermione knew had a hold on him in a similar binding fashion that the Dark Lord had. Had she been able to creep into his mind, Hermione would find thoughts and thoughts about herself, and about what love was and what it wasn’t. She would find the dreams he had been having of her, and the painful doubts he had about Astoria and his mother’s conservative advice on love and marriage. But most of all, she would find the courage he had been trying to brew since the last time he saw her that would be able to stand up for what he wanted, rather than what was expected of him by so many people in his inner circle. But instead of all that and the complexities of Draco’s mind, the only thing Hermione could think of when it came to their odd conversation just now, was that Draco Malfoy only had cold feet, and cold feet alone. She swore to herself, from this day onward and the next ones that she would try to get over Draco Malfoy as soon as humanly possible.</p><p>
  
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  <strong>HARRY</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Fresh snow was beautiful in the wintertime, particularly just before the holidays. It was always a plan for Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and himself to venture off to the popular towns to get a glimpse of a Winter Wonderland to get themselves in the proper mood for the holidays. This year, of course, was a little bit different. He felt bad that Hermione hadn’t spoken to either of the Weasley siblings, but knew that deep down, it was for the best. Though Ron had no animosity to Hermione since some time had passed, he knew that Hermione was still sensitive and trying her best to adjust to such a lonely, empty apartment. He often wondered what she would do on her days off when not planning Malfoy’s wedding, or his own. Theirs was in the works, of course, but having Hermione nearing the end of her stages when it came to being employed by Malfoy, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of hidden hope that maybe she and Ron could at least start to become friends again. It felt too strange to divide his time in this way, but he did it simply because he cared for them both equally.</p><p>“How’s it coming along?” Harry couldn’t help but ask the witch who was sipping on her hot chocolate.</p><p>Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry, obviously confused, and then focused on her friend.</p><p>“The wedding?”</p><p>“Yeah, is it as big as the papers are saying?”</p><p>Hermione smirked to herself and shook her head, her damp tresses flowing with her from snowflakes that gently landed on them.</p><p>“Well, there won’t be any dragons, unfortunately,” Hermione started with fun sarcasm. “But the guest list is only two-hundred and something, not four-hundred and ninety. And the papers keep mentioning such a beautifully catered meal, when in all actuality, they’re having their house elves cook everything. It’s barbaric.”</p><p>“House elves? For two hundred people?”</p><p>“I know. And Astoria’s mother is sending some of her elves to assist. As if that makes it any better,” Hermione frowned, but then smiled as she remembered something Draco had said. “You know one time I was talking with Draco and he was telling me about the first time he met Astoria’s mother. She was practically flirting with him. I had teased him about it relentlessly and one time we were laughing so hard that he even turned red!”</p><p>The joke that was laughable to Hermione wasn’t necessarily so to Harry, who only smiled in politeness to keep the mood light between them. But upon analyzing his friend, he noticed something in her eye unlike anything he had ever seen before. There was a twinkle that had come forth as she talked about Malfoy. It was joy, and happiness at the rehashing of the memory, and it was almost refreshing to see her as anything other than melancholic these days.</p><p>“You know, for some reason I never thought I’d see the day that someone would marry Draco,” Harry spoke up in sudden realization. “I just never thought he had any sort of luck with women.”</p><p>“Are you kidding,” Hermione grinned. “Remember Pansy Parkinson? She was totally in love with him for most of Hogwarts.”</p><p>“Did you ever see him when you went back?”</p><p>Hermione took another sip of her hot chocolate and nodded slowly, her mind refreshing the thought so vividly to her.</p><p>“Yeah, actually I do. He was a lot quieter and kept to himself. I told myself that if he didn’t speak to me, I wouldn’t speak to him. I didn’t think to realize that he was struggling with the war, also. People would tease him and poke fun at him, and he never retaliated. I sort of watched and felt that if I were to get too close, he would snap. So I kept my distance,” Hermione’s voice trailed off. “I wonder what would’ve happened if we became friends earlier.”</p><p>“Maybe you would’ve married him,” Harry teased, though not getting the laugh that he wanted from Hermione, who instead smiled and ignored him with a roll of her eyes. The pair continued walking down the way, and Harry stopped, looking at a jewelry store nearby. There were loads of watches and necklaces in the window being held in the air in the display cases by magic. Some of the rings that were there on display were on a mannequin hand that would turn itself every now and then and wiggle its fingers to draw attention to the ring. But as Harry peered, getting completely drawn in at the thought of Ginny, he looked up when seeing a familiar face inside the shop. “Is that…?”</p><p>“Yeah, picking out rings,” Hermione spoke, noticing him as well from where she stood outside the shop. Draco was inside the shop with Astoria, who was leaned over and peering at a display case while casually talking with the salesperson. Draco was by her side, of course, visibly uninterested in being there and not really paying attention to what Astoria was saying. That behavior was what annoyed Hermione the most. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Harry stood up straight, watching Draco one last time and then turning around, seeing Hermione who was a good distance away, marching in the snow.</p><p>“Hermione,” He called, jogging a bit to catch up to her. When he finally did, he got the chance to truly look at his friend who was upset. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Never better,” She forced out, without even trying to hide how upset she really was. “I just can’t believe I’ve wasted a single thought and my precious time on him in any way other than pure professionalism. Malfoy was even more of a vile git now than he was back at Hogwarts.”</p><p>Harry could hear Hermione speaking, but he knew that she didn’t believe her own words. He surely didn’t, at least. But one thing that he also knew was that his friend was deeply moved by what she had seen. Malfoy was looking at wedding rings with Astoria, a completely normal thing to do when someone was preparing for their nuptials. But Hermione’s reaction did give insight to what he had been suspecting all along: The answer to Ron’s question and now his.</p><p>He placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder and peered into her hurt eyes. He hadn’t realized he was intimidating her by his gaze, nor was he deliberately trying to, but the way he spoke with no words was enough for Hermione to give in.</p><p>“I like him Harry,” She confessed in a soft whisper, though as to not let even the wind hear. “And I utterly hate how much I do.”</p><p>He knew it, but then again it wasn’t that hard to piece together, anyway. All he did was nod, taking notice of her confession and smiling to hopefully relax her. It always amazed Hermione how sometimes Harry could just smile off some of the most annoying inconveniences, but it was much needed, just like his silence. It’s not that Harry didn’t hear her; she was loud and clear despite the whisper. But he knew that she didn’t need a lecture about her feelings. She was probably already giving herself that when she was alone. He understood the toughness of the situation, but he also knew that Hermione would come out of it alright. And so, after a few more seconds of silence, Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and continued walking down Diagon Alley with his very brilliant but very confused friend.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DECEMBER</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Each step that Hermione took in the crunchiness of the snow brought her nearer to the last place she’d ever want to be at this moment. It was almost as if she were torturing herself by continuing to plan this wedding. Why couldn’t she just stop? Why couldn’t she turn a blind eye to it all and help from afar? Since the last time she saw Draco, she continued to think about him. Just in a different way. She had tried her best to think back on when they were kids and how awful it was being the subject of his taunts when they were almost friends back then. She tried to take it as a sign that things between him and her just weren’t meant to be. It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult or this confusing. He was to marry Astoria, and she would soon be forgotten. As a matter of fact, that didn’t sound half bad to the stubborn witch. She wanted to hate him, to forget him, to feel every bad feeling imaginable towards him, but she just couldn’t. And so, as she walked up to Reese’s Robes, she stopped just before her hand landed on the door handle. She saw Draco inside, towards the back getting measured as he stood on a pedestal.</p><p>She halted for a moment and stepped to lean against the outside of the storefront, trying to calm her nerves before entering. She had to be calm, to be stoic, and remind herself that this was her brave act for the day, no matter how much she detested the idea of it all.</p><p>Hermione pushed herself off of the shoppe wall and entered, alerting both Draco and the shopkeeper, Maurice of her entrance. Both men perked up, but in different ways. Maurice was good fun whenever Hermione would bring her clients to him. She would give him business since he was still so new, just like herself, and he would do the same for her, so it was no surprise that he was excited to see her. And Draco? Well, he was surprised. Astoria had mentioned something about Hermione assisting him with his dress robes, but ultimately thought this was something he was going to do on his own.</p><p>“Miss Granger, what a lovely surprise,” Maurice spoke. He was a stocky, older gentleman with thinning hair and smiling eyes. In a sense, he almost felt like a father-figure to Hermione with the ways he would always hear her out when she needed an ear and give the sage advice to the young woman. He glanced over at Draco who was stuck staring at the witch. “Mr. Malfoy, this is the planner I was telling you about.”</p><p>“We’re definitely well-acquainted.” Draco nodded curtly at the man, who paused for a moment, shock rushing through his face.</p><p>“Oh my, are you…are you two engaged?” Maurice asked with equal amounts of excitement and incertitude.</p><p>“God, no,” Hermione nearly shouted from sheer embarrassment. She glanced at Draco for a moment and turned her attention back to Maurice. “I’m planning his wedding and his fiancée, Astoria, asked me to assist with picking something out for him.”</p><p>“Oh my! My next question would have been shamelessly about Mr. Weasley,” Maurice smirked. “But it’s a good thing you’re here. The bloke has no idea what he wants. He’s not very good at explaining himself.” The shopkeeper pointed his thumb at Draco. It must’ve been so strange for Draco to get accustomed to. Being called a bloke, people not treating him like royalty every other second. Hermione figured most people did it out of fear before, knowing his father’s ties to Voldemort back then. Now, people were free to express themselves fully without having He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named around anymore.</p><p>“Well that’s because she didn’t let me see the dress.” Draco spoke, annoyance touching his tongue as he looked at the man.</p><p>“Is that my fault?”</p><p>Hermione looked at the two wizards who seemed to mimic a scene from a classic sitcom that she used to watch. And while it was sort of comical to see, Hermione knew that she had business to take care of and didn’t want any second of her time wasted.</p><p>“The dress is cream,” She spoke up, getting both of their attention. “It has eyelet designs on the bottom part of the skirt. The dress is long-sleeved with cream, felt buttons going down the back, and right at the small of the back there’s a bow.”</p><p>Draco and Maurice blinked at her description, which then made the man stand up abruptly.</p><p>“I’ve got the perfect robes.” He spoke before apparating to the back of his store, leaving the two alone through his search.</p><p>Hermione began taking off her coat and took a seat nearby where Draco stood. He was staring at himself in the mirror now, unhappy in the extravagant robes that he was placed in, but even more afflicted at the tension between him and the quiet witch.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were coming,”</p><p>“Astoria asked me to. She was scared you’d pick the wrong robes and make a disaster out of the wedding. Her words, not mine.” Hermione spoke, turning away from him. Part of her felt that Astoria sought out Hermione to accompany him on purpose because she wanted to dangle the weight of their wedding dress “talk” in her face, or to just take pride in knowing that she could try to boss her around.</p><p>Hermione looked at Draco when realizing that he was struggling with undoing the intricate bowtie that Maurice had fashioned for him, and smirked to herself. She stood up and took out her wand, undoing it for him and watching as he relaxed from the relief.</p><p>“I didn’t want it undone,” He pouted. “I just wanted to loosen it up a smidge.”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes and walked over to Draco who was now facing her, and began tying his bow tie. Maurice had showed her only maybe twice before she fully grasped the concept, and before she knew it, she was tying Draco’s tie perfectly. When finished, she straightened out the fabric that decorated his neck, and met eyes with the man. He was staring at her with labored breathing, eyeing the witch that hadn’t been this close to him in a while. And soon, just when she had started to get lost in the beautiful blues and his pained look on his face, she nearly leapt away from him.</p><p>“Sorry.” Hermione wasn’t exactly sure what she was apologizing for, though. Logically, she felt she was apologizing for being too close to him and stepping past that boundary that Astoria had placed between him and her. But deeply, it felt like Hermione was apologizing to herself for letting her mind resurface to that moment that they shared, and shamefully so.</p><p>Draco looked down at his hands and then back to the witch who was now sitting in the red velvety seats. She was trying to look comfortable and lackadaisical, but he could see straight past that. She was thinking, and deeply.</p><p>“Hermione, I think we really should talk.”</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“What else about? About the Halloween party. About you not reading my letters. About everything,” Draco pressed. Though, he started to feel bad at the fact that he was pushing. “I didn’t know that you felt that way about me.”</p><p>“I didn’t think that I felt that way about you, either,” She confessed. She was tense, but tried to smile in hopes that the action would remove her peeved demeanor. “I especially didn’t think I would have to admit it.”</p><p>Draco thought for a moment on her words, both from just now and the words back at her office last week.</p><p>“Is that how you felt about Weasley?”</p><p>Hermione met his eyes, confused at his question. He had never asked her about Ron before. Why now?’</p><p>“No,” She shook her head. “I loved him, of course. But I think that sometimes when people grow up, you start to analyze everything within the relationship and start to question if you should stay together because these feelings can maybe improve, or out of the fact that the only thing binding you was longevity. With Ron, it was longevity. Then, somewhere between us spending this much time together, I realized it. How I feel with you is…”</p><p>Hermione trailed off as she broke their eye contact. She had begun to find this conversation of theirs to be too painful to carry on.</p><p>“What were you going to say,” Draco asked, taking a few steps towards her. “I want to hear it.”</p><p>Hermione searched his eyes for something. There was that same calmness about him that infuriated her. These were the eyes that she was staring into for quite some time, the same eyes she had been dying to see. And here he was, in front of her, in the dress robes for his wedding. Hermione frowned as something within her began to turn sour.</p><p>“You want to hear how another woman feels for you in the middle of a dress rehearsal for your wedding? I already made that mistake before, Draco. Not again.” Hermione scoffed and then got up, moving around the shoppe. Maurice was still hidden in the back, possibly finding a robe but it was also likely that he had gotten distracted. Still, she was grateful that he weren’t present to hear their conversation.</p><p>“Hermione I’m just as confused as you are.” Draco spoke, causing her to turn around with force.</p><p>“That’s the one thing you got right, Draco Malfoy. You are confused and need someone else to stroke your ego and give you confidence to walk down the bloody aisle.”</p><p>“And what about you,” Draco started. “Would you have broken up with Weasley so soon if he hadn’t seen us in your office now that your little secret got out?”</p><p>“I broke up with him because he was going to propose to me, for your information,” Hermione’s lip began to quiver. “And I didn’t want him to get married to me when I’ve become an even better version of myself because of you. At least one of us has the courage to call off a wedding.”</p><p>“What’s the supposed to mean?” Draco stepped closer to her. The pair were toe-to-toe at this point, eyeing each other in a way that hadn’t been unlocked in the two adults until now.</p><p>“It means that your time is running out. You either get married or you don’t.”</p><p>Hermione watched as Draco grew quiet, his once hard face now distressed and unbecoming.</p><p>“It’s not that easy, Hermione,” He forced out, his mind riddled with thoughts of his parent’s beliefs, his relationship with Astoria, and the relationship he had with Hermione. “I’m thinking about my family, and my mother and father.”</p><p>“Look,” Hermione drew in a slow and careful breath, steadying herself before responding. “I’m not asking you to do anything for me. I’m asking you, for once in your life, to do something for no one other than yourself. If you’re interested in the Potions position at Hogwarts, then try to do it. If you’re unsure about Astoria, then tell her. But don’t keep dragging me into this and asking to know more about my feelings when I’m standing here not as a planner, but as someone who honestly cares about you.”</p><p>There was a moment of silence between the witch and the wizard as they stared. Draco’s eyes were dazed and dreamlike, as though she had administered a love potion to him. Hermione could see longing and devastation, and the same look she was trying to get from Ron for so long. She had found it all, but in the wrong person. Still, behind those eyes were a man most disturbed by the tainted concept of love and affection from such an early age.</p><p>Though Hermione found it comforting to actually speak her mind about what it is that she felt, something inside of her shifted. She had begun to lose hope in regards to Draco. He wasn’t giving an inkling of how he was feeling; about her, about the wedding. Nothing. Even when she already knew how he felt, she just wished he weren’t so afraid to verbalize it, though she could still understand why. She was tired of seeing him trying to please everyone, but himself. And now, as she stood there staring at him, she couldn’t handle it any longer.</p><p>Hermione turned on her heels and gathered her stuff, feeling as though history was repeating itself. She had been in a similar position, in a similar place, when she had her discussion with Astoria. It was all too familiar, and it hurt.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Draco asked, hesitant on taking a step towards her, but doing so regardless. Hermione simply ignored him, and once she was ready to depart, she faced the man.</p><p>“You and I both know that no matter how many times you hear about how I feel for you, you already know how you feel about me. We <em>both</em> know. And you’re not confused. You’re scared, and I understand why you would be. But you’ll continue to miss out on people and other situations in your life if you don’t do what you want and instead you continue doing what’s expected of you,” Hermione’s words were flat and tired. She was too tired to argue with him, but also far too tired to continue on. He was stretching himself thin, and as a result, she found herself stretching as well. “Please tell Astoria that I’m deeply sorry, but I refuse to continue planning your wedding. I can't keep doing this to myself.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello hello helloooo! Hope this one was enjoyable for you all. Can't lie...I got a tiny bit emotional when Hermione explained her feelings to Draco while in her office. But all will work out between our favorite pair (hopefully... ;) ). As always, thank you for your nonstop support! It's always appreciated. Love. Xx--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco makes a plan and Hermione struggles with coming clean to a friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Malfoy Manor was almost unrecognizable from the festive décor that was carefully placed throughout the room. It was beautiful, of course, but unlike the way Draco had recalled ever seeing it when he was just a boy. He had grown used to the idea that no matter what, because of all that had occurred in the confines of these walls, he would never see the beauty in the eccentric mansion. That was until now. From where he stood, he saw grand floral arrangements, in colors of red and white to fit the holidays. And though he didn’t register the crowd that had formed in his unusually large drawing room, he tensed. He knew where he was and what he was doing. He just didn’t know how time had flown by so quickly.</p><p>Draco stared out at the guests that were talking amongst themselves as he stood at the altar, waiting for any sign or signal that the bride was soon coming, but relaxed when he didn’t get any cue. He was grateful for that. He wasn’t nearly as ready as he thought he would be.</p><p>In his time alone, seeing all the cheerful faces, he spotted two familiar ones in the crowd that were everything but. He saw his father, disheveled and resembling the sunken version of himself when Voldemort had risen to power. Next to him was his mother, who was trying her best to smile which made her keen face look all the more distressed. But why? This is what they wanted. This is what they told Draco to do. What changed things now?</p><p>A man scrambled into the drawing room, gently passing by the many attendees, and drawing nearer to the groom. Blaise. He was smiling charmingly and was prepared to speak to the crowd before Pansy apparated right beside him.</p><p>“Please everyone take your seats if you haven’t done so, already.” Pansy asked gently, then disapparating right from the drawing room. At her departure, it all became too real for him. It was starting. The weariness to get married, the constant reminder from his mother about the Malfoy name and how important this was. Everything was starting just a little too fast.</p><p>Draco hadn’t realized he was perspiring until a bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and nearly in his eye. Too nervous to wipe it away, Draco rubbed his clammy hands together and watched Blaise quickly head towards him.</p><p>“You alright, mate?” Blaise asked with a supportive yet firm pat on the back. Draco wanted to lie and say yes, to not give off that he was completely beside himself, but felt his heart sink at the sound of the enchanted organ in the back of the drawing room begin to play, <em>Here Comes the Bride.</em></p><p>Draco swallowed hard and thought he would choke on his own saliva. The lump in his throat grew thicker and he truly felt ill. He wanted to cry, to run, to leave and never look back regardless of what his parents would say to him afterwards. He didn’t care. It just didn’t feel right to him, anymore. In fact, it never really did.</p><p>“I can’t do this. I can’t.” Draco whispered as he gripped onto Blaise’s hand. “What the fuck am I doing here?”</p><p>Blaise gave a cool smile to his frantic friend, seemingly enjoying how unbent he was. It wasn’t out of malice or because he was being a jerk, but mostly because he knew that Draco was worrying for nothing. If anything, Blaise’s calm demeanor wasn’t what was odd. It was the fact that Blaise was so supportive of this. Blaise was in a happy relationship, yes, but at the same time, he knew his standpoint on marriage, especially with Draco’s constant worries lingering about.</p><p>“Relax man,” Blaise pressed, giving his friend’s hand a tight squeeze before he let it go. An assured smile grew on Blaise as he eyed the blond. “You’re marrying your dream girl. It’s all just fine.”</p><p>Draco had opened his mouth to respond to his friend. He wanted to yell and curse and shout. He didn’t care about the Malfoy name, or the fact that he was marrying his alleged dream girl. He knew, standing right there at the altar on his wedding day, that he couldn’t marry Astoria. Absolutely not. He had started to protest, ready to state his case but then stopping when hearing the entrance tune for the bride come to an abrupt end.</p><p>The guests began to stir uneasily, shifting and looking around to see what was happening, and then growing even more curious at the fact that nothing was. Pansy appeared back in the drawing room with a POP! and peered at the two men.</p><p>“She won’t come out.” She stated blankly.</p><p>“What do you mean she won’t come out?” Blaise questioned.</p><p>“What do you think I meant, Blaise? She won’t leave her room. I tried getting her out,” The couple’s words settled into the air as they turned to Draco who was simply standing and not contributing to the shared panic. “You have to go get her!”</p><p>“If she doesn’t want to come out, I won’t make her.”</p><p>“Draco she is about to be your <em>wife</em>.” Pansy’s voice was equally shocked and disgusted at his lack of want and effort to coach his fiancée out of the guest room. He figured he was being a bit cruel, especially when it seemed like she was struggling and in the same boat that he were in. Draco then decided that if he did go to see the girl, he wouldn’t try to ease her anxieties and second thoughts, but that he would only visit her to break things off properly and in private.</p><p>“Fine,” He groaned. Pansy grabbed his hand and suddenly they were in what he assumed was a different part of the manor. It wasn’t any part he had seen before. This place was far different, filled with light pink hues and flowers that were growing the more they stepped down the halls. Pansy guided the groom to a beautifully decorated door that had fun trinkets and words of congratulations on it. Upon closer inspection, he could have swore he saw a small H+D scribbled on one of their enveloped gifts that was also taped to the door, but assumed it were just a weird ‘A’ instead.</p><p>Draco gripped the door handle and jingled it lightly, realizing it was locked. He took out his wand to relieve the spell but was stopped by Pansy with a soft voice.</p><p>“I’ve already tried. You have to talk.”</p><p>This was all too much. They shouldn’t have been in this predicament to begin with. And now, he couldn’t even get inside to speak with her.</p><p>“You alright in there?” He called out through the door. From the other side, he heard movement but none of which indicated she were going to unlock the door. Draco turned around to look at Pansy, though realized quickly that he was alone with just himself and his fiancée who wouldn’t speak to him, just on the opposite side of the door. “Listen, I want to see you so that I can talk to you. About us.”</p><p>It was a brief moment before Draco heard the small unclick of the door’s lock, granting him entrance inside. He pushed the door open slowly until he fully saw her standing in her dress. Her back was facing him as she stared out of the window at the snow that fell outside. Her veil was daintily placed on her head, and seemingly covering her face. He could tell by the way her shoulders moved as she sniffled that she was crying.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms.</p><p>“I don’t know. I’m just nervous.” Her voice was not like her own. There was something immaculately strange about it, though he couldn’t quite place it. But regardless of the sound’s eccentricity, it still sounded familiar to him.</p><p>“Well, I’m nervous too. And I’ve just been thinking about a lot, honestly,” He then shoved his hands in his pockets as he felt he were becoming too serious with his words. “About you. And me. And us.”</p><p>“What about us?” Her voice was becoming more pronounced to him, though this time more unlike her own. He narrowed his eyes, now completely suspicious as to what was going on.</p><p>“About the wedding of course. It’s become more of a public show, and less about us. But I can’t keep blaming the wedding, though. I let it get to this point without saying anything,” He started, and then paused. “I should have told you a long time ago that…that…”</p><p>Draco struggled to spit the words out. Shame, guilt, and an overload of sensitivity made him think the worst of himself. He was breaking up with Astoria on their wedding day. Truly, after this, Draco felt that he didn’t deserve any type of happiness for this sort of stunt that he pulled.</p><p>“Go on.” She encouraged.</p><p>“I can’t.” Draco was sure that tears would soon come rushing forth at how painful it was to fully speak what he needed to say. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt anyone else ever again, and he just so happened to do that seamlessly, as if it were natural to him. Draco could feel his confidence dwindle at the thought. He easily shifted between not caring about what his parents said and deeply wanting to know they would still care for him even if he decided that he wasn’t going through with this. He wanted to know that he still made his father proud for trying.</p><p>The bride turned around, her face covered by the veil. She took a few steps towards Draco, and he could tell even without seeing her face that she was cool and calm now with no signs of sobbing or crying. That was a relief. But Draco wondered in awkward silence how long that would last before he got the chance to fully speak his mind. His bride reached for his hands and caressed them in the more supportive way imaginable, a feeling that was not unfamiliar but unfamiliar from <em>her.</em></p><p>“It’s okay, you can tell me,” She assured softly.</p><p>“It would help if I saw your face.” Draco started as he reached for her veil, slowly removing it and nearly jumping at who he stared upon. There, in the white dress and veil carrying light pink peonies was Hermione. She was beaming with big, glossy eyes that looked just as sad as they were ecstatic to see him. Those were the only type of eyes he got the chance to see from her, lately. Draco swallowed his words and could feel hot tears rushing down his face.</p><p>“Better?” Hermione asked. Draco could only respond with a nod, unsure what the correct answer was. “Now what were you going to say?”</p><p>“I was going to say,” Draco steadied himself mentally to prepare to speak to her in the ways he had dreamed of, yet never could. “That you are so beautiful. When I’m looking at you, all of you, I just see endless stars, each divinely beautiful in their own way, but coming together to create this magnificent constellation which is you. And more importantly, I wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you and causing you pain. And I’m sorry I never told you how much you meant to me sooner. I don’t want to lose you, Hermione. I can’t lose you.”</p><p>Standing here with her, like this, was not too much of a surprise for Draco. She was here, and so was he, and that’s all that mattered. He didn’t want it any other way. He knew he<em> needed</em> it to be this way. Only this way. Draco grabbed his fiancé and brought her close to him. He tilted Hermione’s delicate face upwards, bringing himself to do the one thing he desired to do for what felt like ages. He kissed her. He kissed her with as much passion and emotion that had been building up within him for quite sometime, and became drunk in the essence of her that he smelled. A faint floral perfume and the hair products she used to tame her tresses. Draco gripped her tighter when feeling Hermione’s mouth open, her tongue dancing with his in their embrace. He had never felt safer.</p><p>Draco hadn’t thought to pay any mind to Pansy’s loud high heels clacking along the tiles as she came near the couple. She placed her hands on her hips at the sight of them, and smirked.</p><p>“Great, you got her to open the door. Now can we get a move on and do this when you say ‘I do’ in front of all your guests?”</p><p>Draco grinned through the kiss at his friend’s words. He had almost forgotten about their nuptials if it weren’t for Pansy’s cynical reminder. What were they waiting for? He broke the kiss with a satisfied smile and opened his eyes to dawn on the beautiful witch, though frowning and backing away from her immediately after doing so.</p><p> Draco hitched a quick breath, staring at who was presented before him. Fixing her hair and veil was Astoria with her signature smile on her face and lipstick smudged from their kiss. She gave Draco a playful wink and linked her arm with his as she smiled up at her groom and said,</p><p>“Let’s go get married.”</p><p> </p><p>The abrupt change in the dynamic was enough to bring Draco out of his subconscious and into reality. He sat up, head aching and confusion stirring within him as he looked around at the empty flat. He squinted through tired, blurry eyes and focused on the empty fire whiskey bottle on the coffee table. He could hear movement from somewhere, but not sure of the source. The young man sat up, holding his head as he tried to gain his bearings. What the fuck happened?</p><p>Draco flinched when seeing Blaise walking towards him down the hall, and soon it all came back to him. He was invited over by Blaise for a final night out as a “free man” before he got married. Apparently the fun was too much for Draco to manage, unfortunately. Blaise, who was munching on some crisps from a bag, froze when seeing his friend now awake and coherent, even if only slightly. Draco stood up, trying to steady himself, though falling back down on the couch. He wasn’t drunk, but rather slightly buzzed from the drinks he had.</p><p>“Pansy, he’s awake!”</p><p>The tipsy wizard winced a bit at his calls and laid back down on his couch.</p><p>“Why are you screaming?”</p><p>Blaise came and found himself sitting on the same couch that the lengthy man was stretched out on. He was concerned, but also a bit out of it, himself. Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend, and when seeing Pansy come out in her robe and hair in rollers, he grew all the more suspicious.</p><p>“What the hell is going on?”</p><p>“I gave you whiskey because you kept going on and on about how your wedding is going to be a complete shitshow. It eased your nerves, of course. You might need more on your wedding day, though.”</p><p>“Shut up! They’re just nerves,” Pansy nudged her boyfriend before turning back to Draco. “Meanwhile, Blaise nearly killed you with all the fire whiskey shots he had you take.” Pansy uttered as she gave a disciplined smack to Blaise’s arm.</p><p>“Well, he’s alright now, isn’t he?!” Blaise defended as he stuffed another crisp in his mouth.</p><p>“<em>Are</em> you alright?” Pansy asked as she frowned.</p><p>“I’m fine. Why?” Draco waved them off. It wasn’t the first time he had found himself a little out of it from a drink or two. Surely it wouldn’t be his last, either.</p><p>“You…uh…you were kind of crying in your sleep.”</p><p>Draco’s strangely realistic dream that he had temporarily forgotten came rushing back to him. He remembered the anxiety of standing at the altar, and how he felt when he was kissing Hermione, thinking she were his bride. But above all else, he remembered how adamant he was to end the engagement with Astoria, despite it being completely last minute in his decision.</p><p>“I’m alright, I guess.” Draco spoke, forcing himself to stand up straight to the best of his ability as he stalked over to the window, seeing that it was completely dark outside. From Blaise’s flat, one had full view of beautiful Christmas decorations outside with other shoppers having a good time running about as they lurked for any last-minute Christmas gifts.</p><p>“You guess?” Pansy pressed in her typical behavior. Hearing her voice, he could still remember her last words lingering in his head during his kiss with Hermione. It felt so real. He wanted it to be real. And in the meantime as he longed for this, he had to face the hard fact of it all, and fast. So, Draco devised a plan. He already felt as though the dream version of his comrades had an idea of what was going on, so he would have to practice on them, saying it aloud, just to hear what it sounded like for the very first time.</p><p>“I’m going to call off the wedding,” Draco's voice was flat and serious. “And I'm going to need both of your help.”</p><p>Draco’s eyes focused on the two friends after he spoke, with both of them completely concerned. Then, Blaise’s face grew a bit lighter in expression. Through the silence, he obnoxiously plopped another crisp into his mouth and looked at his girlfriend and then back to his mate.</p><p>“Well, can’t say I didn’t see<em> this</em> coming.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>There had been plenty of moments in her life when Hermione felt completely unglued. It was a shaky feeling that settled deep within her as she tried to combat it with a relaxed face. She would purse her lips together, lift her head up, and look about proudly to assert that she was okay when in reality she was not. Tonight was one of those moments. When she and Ginny had first started talking again, she was delighted. Still, Hermione struggled with the idea that there was a new sort of unspoken curiosity between the two of them. Undoubtedly, Hermione wanted to know how Ron was doing, but didn’t ask. And Ginny wanted to know exactly how the breakup occurred to see if Hermione’s story lined up with Ron’s, but she also didn’t ask. So, when Ginny invited Hermione to the Burrow for Charlie’s birthday party, the frantic girl quickly denied the request, but ultimately knew that the rest of the Weasley’s hadn’t yet heard about her and Ron’s break-up. She figured that maybe it would’ve been best to go along with everything tonight. Just to save herself of any owls coming her way asking her what happened. She didn’t want to rethink anything that had occurred between her and Ron, and certainly not anything about Malfoy. As a matter of fact, Hermione was almost certain that she had rid herself of any romantic feelings for Draco Malfoy, altogether. A feat that she considered far too easy.</p><p>As night began to draw in nearer, Hermione was surprised at how successful her time at the Burrow had been. Though she feared that everyone knew something was off about her and Ron, she knew that more than anything, the best way to act normal at any Weasley event is to disappear in the crowd in some way. So, she found herself out back in a squeaky chair, looking at the stars. Her only friend for the night was Ginny, of course, considering that Harry and Ron were joined at the hip for obvious reasons. But as she sat, she couldn’t help but think about how awful she would miss this big, family setting. That was one of the main things that hurt Hermione, deeply.</p><p>From behind her, Hermione could hear the opening of the backdoor and smiled when seeing Ginny coming to join her, sitting across from her and starting a small fire that lit in midair. Ginny was eyeing the witch sneakily, trying to makeup for any thoughts that Hermione may have been having, by trying to make her laugh. Though, it didn’t necessarily work.</p><p>“I missed this place.” Hermione confessed softly. The loudness had become home to her. All the summers spent here, all the times she and Ginny would just hang out. Now, they were just memories. Sentiments of times well-spent as she would soon have to make use of her newfound time in many different ways without the Weasley’s, eventually. She glanced back at Ginny, a wave of fear rushing over her once again as it had done many times this night. “Are you sure they don’t know?”</p><p>“From what Ron says, he hasn’t told a soul,” She started. Then, a trivial question came over her and for a moment, the girl wondered if she really wanted to tread into this territory. But still, as much as she wanted to remain respectful of Hermione and Ron’s split, she needed to know something important from her friend. “What will you do for Christmas, now?”</p><p>Hermione hadn’t exactly thought about that. She was living in her flat completely alone now. She had no flat mates or any other company besides Crookshanks, her letters from Draco, and her own unwelcomed thoughts. She hadn’t thought about how she didn’t yet get a Christmas tree or how she wouldn’t have any presents under it from anyone. While Hermione wasn’t materialistic, she was festive when the occasion called for it.</p><p>“I’ll probably stay home.” Hermione spoke out, though it was now mostly a realization of her plans, to herself.</p><p>Ginny looked down at her hands, feeling ashamed that this was happening near the holidays. She knew the situation with Hermione’s parents, and she knew that now that Hermione and Ron had broken up, that things would be completely different, for everyone. They were the last couple to get married. The one couple everyone waited anxiously for. She never imagined Hermione without Ron and Ron without Hermione. They just fit. And now look. Two puzzle pieces fitting different pictures. Hell, they didn’t even speak the entire night aside from a casual ‘Hi’ once Ron stopped by with Harry after picking up some extra booze. The fact that no one noticed anything was off with them was a miracle to her, but Ginny knew they couldn’t possibly keep this a secret from everyone forever.</p><p>“Why couldn’t you two breakup <em>after </em>the holidays,” Ginny asked playfully, though seeing Hermione as anything but. She recentered herself to be more serious for the sake of empathy and leaned forward towards the silent witch. “You can always spend Christmas with Harry and I. Usually we stay the night at mum and dad’s but after Christmas dinner, you can come over to our flat. It’s no trouble at all and no one should be lonely during the holidays.”</p><p>“I’m not lonely. I’m alone,” Hermione started as she shook her head. “And I can’t possibly do that. To sneak in one last gift from your parents and then say, ‘hey by the way, Ron and I broke up. Thanks for the gift, though.’ I couldn’t.”</p><p>Ginny had opened her mouth to suggest another way that Hermione wouldn’t be alone for Christmas and stopped once seeing someone standing by the backdoor. Hermione turned to look as well and froze when seeing Ron standing there. He hesitated for a split second and then pulled the doors open, making his way to Hermione. He had a slight smirk on his face as he held the small saucer shakily in his hands, revealing a piece of Charlie’s birthday cake.</p><p>“I noticed you didn’t take any. I wanted to make sure you had some.” His voice was low and gentle as he spoke to her. Hermione gave a small, weak smile to him, and took the cake from his hands. This was their routine. If the other didn’t eat, they would always fix a plate for the other. A gesture that was once so sweet and reliable to Hermione was now slightly saddening.</p><p>“I appreciate it, Ron,” Hermione nodded. Ron smiled back at her and then glanced at Ginny who was smiling as well, enjoying the sight of the two of them interacting. He straightened himself quickly at the sight of his sister and turned back to Hermione.</p><p>“I’ll uh…I’ll be in the house if either of you need anything.”</p><p>Hermione looked down at the piece of cake, full of vibrant color and glitter. She had heard that Victoire decorated it with copious amounts of passion and love, and it showed. It was almost too pretty for her to eat, so Hermione set it on her lap and looked back at Ginny who was amused at his efforts to make peace with her first.</p><p>“You know, I always thought you wanted to get married.”</p><p>Hermione sighed, not thrilled to be going back to this conversation, but not wanting to brush Ginny off, either. She and her never had this conversation, even though they were back to talking semi-regularly.</p><p>“I thought so, too. Then it just seemed like my whole idea of what I truly wanted got shifted. And I thought about if I wanted Ron in the same way that I wanted…” Hermione paused, her mind quickly flashing to Draco, but leaving her just as quickly as it came. “…other things.”</p><p>“It’s not Malfoy, is it?”</p><p>Hermione could feel herself blushing from Ginny’s forward question, and felt herself grow defensive from his name. She was upset with Draco and wanted no parts of his chaotic wedding, his friendship, or anything else. She was fine with keeping her distance, though she was angry at herself for still missing him.</p><p>“What? Why would you ask me that?” Hermione hadn’t realized that her voice was growing from such a personal question.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’ve just been hearing Ron go on for a while about how you were secretly infatuated with him. I figured I would ask. That’s all.”</p><p>“I—Ginny, there’s something that I would want to say,” Hermione started. Ginny positioned herself to hear her friend with complete focus, which inadvertently made Hermione more nervous. “Draco and I became friends while I was planning his wedding.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>Hermione was surprised that Ginny took that pretty well. She was almost certain that the youngest Weasley would break out into a fit of laughter because of it, but knew that she was trying to see her point. She debated countlessly on how it would look and sound if she admitted her attraction for Draco. Was it even the appropriate time? They were alone, so that was to their benefit right now. But, the breakup was still fresh for everyone. The last thing she wanted to do was step on anyone’s toes. Plus, Draco was getting married, and the days were counting down fast. She didn’t want to be pining over the bloke while he would soon be away on his honeymoon. Therefore, Hermione stuffed her emotions back inside and shrugged a shoulder, hoping to disregard her own train of thought.</p><p>“Nothing, nothing. That’s all.”</p><p>Ginny grinned and rolled her eyes as she then slumped back down in her seat.</p><p>“You had me worried for a second.”</p><p>“Worried? Why worried?” Hermione returned the grin.</p><p>“I genuinely thought you were going to say you were into him, or something,” Ginny spoke, now laughing at the thought. Hermione tried her best to keep an open mind, but to know that that would’ve been the reaction she could potentially get from her friend was not ideal. “Imagine feeling something in that way for a Malfoy. That would have been a disaster.”</p><p>Hermione forced a smile on her face and looked through the back doors into the house. Ron was standing nearby, and apparently he had been staring, considering he looked away after she eyed him. Hermione gulped a bit and looked back down at her dessert. She was visibly troubled now.</p><p>“Yeah, a disaster.” Hermione repeated. She forked some cake into her mouth to try and distract herself from the images that now began to wrestle in her mind. In that moment, when she had finally found herself faced with her feelings as a complete joke to the unsuspecting Ginny, it made it that much more clear to Hermione that she was not over Draco. In fact, her feelings for him somehow managed to blossom, just like the flowers of Springtime, and in the same way that she had previously described them to Draco.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Oh man! I'm posting super late but I apologize for that! Work has been hectic but I'm back in the groove of things with posting earlier. It's 10PM EST where I am. But enough of that, I hope this one is an interesting read for you all. This one was fun for me to do. I love having some twists and turns in my fics. But regardless, I hope you all enjoy! I appreciate you all for your support. Couldn't do it without you all. NEXT UPDATE: 12/13. Bless Xx--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco finally has a long awaited conversation with Astoria about the future of their relationship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> DRACO</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>CHRISTMAS EVE</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The last time that Draco ever thought of Malfoy Manor was in his dream, and since then, he couldn’t let the mansion out of his mind. Not one bit. The memories from that event in his subconscious had begun to fade. He found it increasingly difficult to pinpoint exactly how it felt to kiss Hermione, and figured it was only because it hadn’t happened in reality. Still, it felt so real to him, regardless of that. A dream come true within a dream. How unfair it was to be given what you most wanted and desired, but to never truly receive it. To this, he grew impatient when he thought of her, but knew that he couldn’t approach her without it being right this time, especially since knowing how upset she was with him. That was one of the many things that troubled him, the main one being how he would go about telling Astoria his decision. He knew he had to tell her before time was up but struggled with the right moments to do so. He had tried to do it one day as he came home from work, but she was sleeping and exhausted from sending out the invitations. Draco cursed himself that he didn’t get to do it before she sent them out, or before she got her dress, or before they had even hired Hermione as their planner, but he had no room for regrets, right now. He instead felt that he still needed to push forward, knowing that this wasn’t what he needed. He wanted to make this as painless as possible, to give her every reason he saw fit that would prevent them from being together, but he knew that she wouldn’t believe that. Astoria had already seen herself as part of the family, and he knew this.</p><p>As he sat there at the long dining room table full of memories he didn’t want to remember, he began to grow a little less confident in his plan. Draco stole a quick glance at Astoria who was smiling widely throughout their Christmas luncheon. She was attentive and listening carefully to Narcissa’s words about how well the wedding would go and how gorgeous she would look in the dress that she hadn’t even seen, yet. Draco, much like any other time, found himself quiet and to himself. The only person he spoke to really was Daphne who questioned him on what was being served for lunch. Draco gave a brief “I don’t know” and that was the only conversation he had all afternoon. He was grateful for it, though. He didn’t want to seem too out of sorts, especially not when everyone was happy and lively while he sported a sour look on his face.</p><p>As the elves came around with the meal, chicken cordon bleu, Draco slumped in his seat. The nerves he had conjured for bravery had settled in his stomach, now, in the most unbecoming way. It was impossible for him to eat.</p><p>“Oh, this looks exquisite,” Mrs. Greengrass commended. “Will it be a menu item for the wedding?”</p><p>“It’s definitely a choice.” Astoria smiled at her mother and then to her in-laws. It was clear she wanted to show her gratitude for her wedding’s expensive budget. She flashed a smile to Draco this time around who gave one back out of respect and picked up his fork. If he didn’t eat anything or even slightly make an attempt, he would be seen as “off”. The last thing the blonde needed was the opportunity to have all eyes on him, especially with the way he was feeling.</p><p>“It’s delicious.” Astoria remarked as she took more bites. Draco did as well, but then placed his fork down, only settling for a brief taste of a side dish. It was truly all he could tolerate for now.</p><p>“A bit dry.” Daphne spoke up, her attention still turned to her food. Nearly everyone looked at her in shock at the table, except for Draco, who seemed more amused than anything at her inappropriate candor. It <em>was </em>dry.</p><p>Noticing that her parents were especially giving her dissatisfied looks, Daphne shrugged a brief shoulder and looked back. “What?”</p><p>“That’s rather rude.” Astoria spoke flatly as she continued eating.</p><p>“It’s just an observation. You would want the best for your perfect day, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>“If only you could have a perfect wedding day.” Astoria shot back at her sister. Draco winced at the words being thrown at each other and looked back at the Greengrass’ who were horrified at their daughter’s behaviors.</p><p>“Stop it.” Mrs. Greengrass spoke, though blushing when realizing she had lost her composure for a second. She glanced at her oldest child and turned back to the Malfoys. “I apologize for her behavior.”</p><p>“I don’t need anyone apologizing for me.” Daphne spoke lowly, though bitterly.</p><p>“You need to apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Astoria spoke.</p><p>“You just love that title, huh,” Daphne smirked at her sister. “And<em> you</em> need to apologize to <em>me</em>.” Daphne snapped back.</p><p>“Girls!” Mrs. Greengrass exclaimed as she eyed her two daughters. Truly, this was something Draco had never seen before. He had never seen Astoria speak out of turn, and at that, in front of his family of all places. She was always meek and unassuming, always trying her best to show how modest and discreet she can be. An action that Draco had once thought was admirable due to respect for the Malfoy name soon became something he saw as nothing more than a need to fit in. Something that stirred him in the wrong way simply because of familiarity.</p><p>Draco watched Astoria closely, seeing the tears rushing into her eyes at the verbal discipline from her mother. How strange. Astoria was not like herself. She appeared stressed at this very moment, and he could only attribute it as coming from her need to please. Was this what he appeared as to Hermione?</p><p>“No, it’s quite alright,” Narcissa spoke up. “Sometimes the food can be a bit of a hit or miss. I suppose they are a bit tired and are working hard for the wedding.”</p><p>“Speaking of the wedding,” Mr. Greengrass smiled, standing up with his wine glass in his hands. “A toast. To my lovely daughter, Astoria. Darling, you never fail to make us proud. And I know you will continue to do so as you take on the Malfoy name and give us beautiful grandchildren in the years to come. And to my future son-in-law, please do what is best with my daughter in mind, always. And to my eldest daughter, who we all thought would be married by now. We are still proud of you regardless of your singleness.”</p><p>At the end of his speech, Daphne stood up with such force that she nearly knocked her own chair backwards. The napkin that was placed on her lap was now being tossed onto her plate, signaling the end of her meal.</p><p>“Will you excuse me?” She told the group instead of asking. And without anyone’s approval, she marched out of the dining room and was out of sight. The rest of the room was quiet, even Astoria who wore a proud smirk on her face from her father’s words. It was clear to Draco, then, that Astoria was their favorite child, and she was proud of that. Though, this came as a bit of a surprise to him. Back in school, Daphne would receive all the praise and all the shine from her folks for being the older daughter with exceptional grades. And now, it was Astoria. Though he tried his best to search for any reason that made sense to him, he figured it mostly had something to do with their engagement.</p><p>The dining room was eerily quiet from Mr. Greengrass’ failed speech. No one bothered to look at the other, and no one toasted to his words that had clearly angered his oldest child. It didn’t feel appropriate to do so, even though Mr. Greengrass unsuspectingly took a swig from his wine glass, as though nothing had even occurred.</p><p>Astoria shifted in her seat a bit as the silence carried on and turned to Lucius. With big, hopeful eyes, she stared at her future father-in-law and began to question him.</p><p>“Will you say a brief speech as well, Mr. Malfoy?” She asked. Those were the first words Draco had ever heard Astoria say to his father. They never really talked other than the greeting they gave to each other when she would come over. But that was all. The whole encounter felt strange and forced.</p><p>“I don’t give toasts,” Lucius spoke plainly. This couldn’t have possibly been going any worse. Narcissa looked at her husband, searching for something inside of him. It was possible that Narcissa was trying to convince him to toast on the bride and groom’s behalf, but when realizing she wouldn’t get far with him, she instead turned to her son.</p><p>“Perhaps Draco will?” Narcissa asked.</p><p>Draco froze from his mother’s volunteering and looked at everyone at the table. Astoria was batting her long eyelashes at him, thinking of how glorious it would be to hear his thoughtful words just a week before their wedding, and then saw the looks of wonder from the Greengrass’. He was trapped in everyone else’s hopes and ideas, and felt himself grow upset. He wanted to keep a low profile so that he could breakup with Astoria, not to profess feelings that weren’t present. But he figured that if this were going to be one of the last things he did for Astoria, he would have to do it right.</p><p>Draco gripped his glass so tight that he thought it would crack in his hands from the force. He stood up, towering over everyone at the table, and shoved his free hand in his pocket.</p><p>“I’m not…uh, I’m not very good at speeches but I’ll try,” He started. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say. The words didn’t come as easily to him as they did when he told Hermione in his dream that he cared for her.</p><p>“Start by telling us how you met!” Mrs. Greengrass tried to help from her seat not far from his. He sighed and remembered that moment a little easier and used it for leverage during his speech.</p><p>“I met Astoria when I went back to Hogwarts after the…after the uh…war,” Draco swallowed a bit. Those words were still a little hard to digest for him. “Daphne had received a box of sweets from you, Mrs. Greengrass, and you told Daphne to share them with Astoria, but she didn’t. And uh, I remember studying in the Great Hall one day and Astoria comes over marching towards me. No introduction, no nothing. She just tells me that she wants her share of sweets and at first I thought she was mental. I didn’t know who she was. And so, she gave me a deal. She told me that if I helped her get the treats back from her sister, she would share them with me, too. She and Daphne were some of the only few people who actually spoke to me when I went back. Anyways, Astoria had nabbed some Puking Pastilles from a first year, and I slipped only one in the box. She ate it and of course she thought the chocolates were making her sick, so she gave the rest to Astoria willingly. And so, Astoria made good on her promise and we shared them everyday after class until there weren’t anymore to share. And then we just sort of took off from there.”</p><p>Draco smiled at the story. That was one of the fondest memories he had with Astoria, before she cared about who he was or his family’s name or anything like that. Back in school, she saw him as just another bloke. Now, he was of importance to her, but not in the way that he wanted to be. He was important to her because of what her family told her.</p><p>Looking down at the dining table, he knew they were waiting for more on the story, even Astoria who was telling him with her eyes to clean it up and not make her sound so childish. Then, it set in for him that this would possibly be the last time their families would be joined together in this way. He knew that he owed it to her to make his words come from a place of authenticity.</p><p>“I didn’t realize then that we would get where we are, today. I’ve learned so much about life, and even about love because of you. Astoria, you’re gorgeous and intelligent. You are goal-oriented and self-sufficient, and any wizard would be lucky enough to have you.”</p><p>Draco looked down at the young woman who was smiling, though not deeply emotional like her mother was. In fact, she was the only one at the table who was sobbing from the humorous story and his brief sentiments.</p><p>“That’s you, mate! You’re the lucky one to have her!” Mr. Greengrass called out with a smile. Draco could only get himself to smile back, despite how uncomfortable he was. He knew that right now wouldn’t be the correct time or place to show any sort of mixed emotions. He didn’t want this to be a spectacle or as messy as their wedding event had become.</p><p>As lunch wore on, Mr. Greengrass felt it would’ve been the perfect opportunity since the snow had eased up to place the tent up with the help of everyone involved. Draco, who was neither thrilled nor ambitious to partake in any other wedding activities, stole a few moments away to himself. As the rest of the group started out, Draco found himself loosening his tie and top collar, walking down the hall as he struggled slightly to breathe. The more he tried to secretly distance himself from everything involved, the more he got sucked into it. He wondered if he should make a quick excuse to leave them all at the Manor and take Astoria home to get it over with. But, in the middle of his panicking, he passed by his old bedroom and stopped when seeing Daphne standing inside of it.</p><p>Draco blinked from her presence and stepped towards his old room, seeing the witch analyze all his toys and knickknacks, Quidditch posters and the like.</p><p>“Your house is like a fuckin’ museum.” Daphne spoke bleakly. “There were only three of you, but you have like sixteen bedrooms.”</p><p>“Guest rooms.” He corrected. “What the hell are you even doing in my room, anyways?”</p><p>Daphne turned to him, seeing the sweat on his forehead and his disheveled appearance. He wasn’t the same Draco who was quiet and poised at the dining table. This Draco was different. So, feeling slightly curious at how unglued he was, she decided to take this as her advantage to bother him, just like she had did for fun during their time at Hogwarts.</p><p>“What’s got your wand in a knot?”</p><p>“I…we were just going to start putting up the tent. I wanted to freshen up first.”</p><p>“You wanted to freshen up to go out to your backyard?” She asked, clearly not believing his story. When seeing him stand there in silence, she scoffed a bit and shook her head. “Cold wand?”</p><p>Draco looked down, a bit ashamed that he had been found out, and also uncomfortable that he were speaking to the sister of the girl whose heart he were about to break.</p><p>“Slight.” He shrugged, trying to now force calmness onto his face, though his nerves still showed.</p><p>“I know all about that,” Daphne started, sitting on his bed and looking up at her former classmate. “Had it halfway through my engagement and then it got to the point where I just said, ‘fuck it’.”</p><p>Finding himself confused, Draco looked at Daphne who was smiling at how perplexed he was. So many questions came to him, and he didn’t know where to start.</p><p>“You were engaged? When? To who? I had no idea.”</p><p>“Uh, about two years ago? To Theodore Nott. He was at Hogwarts with us, <em>Nott</em> sure if you remember him,” He smirked, winking at the joke she had made, clearly pleased with herself. “And no one knew except for mum, dad. They’ve been trying so hard to get in good with former Death Eaters to still ensure that their daughters could marry well and into status, so of course they approved and I thought we were going to actually do it but we mutually called it off. Sort of funny actually. We got into a huge fight and then we both admitted it. I still talk to him to this day.”</p><p>Draco frowned at the idea, though it gave him more insight despite how uncomfortable it was to hear about their family’s motives. The one thing that he focused on though was her mention of cold wand. A part of Draco felt that maybe he could fight how he felt, but knew that it would be a losing battle.</p><p>“How did you make it stop? The nerves.”</p><p>“Why, you breakup, of course,” She teased with a laugh, though part of her was completely serious. “Or you realize that it’s all in your head and you let yourself truly decide based on what your heart wants, not by what your family wants.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Daphne stood up and walked towards the blond, searching his face and then squinting her eyes as if pinpointing something.</p><p>“Do you really, though?”</p><p>“What?” Draco blinked, watching as she neared him.</p><p>“I know you don’t love her, especially since it’s such a hard to manage word for old, traditional types like our families,” Her voice was low and in a whisper, trying not to let anyone hear in case they happened to come around. “I’m asking you nicely Draco to let my sister find happiness somewhere else. And then, you can, too.”</p><p>Draco searched around the room, his old memories rushing back to him and placing him to the times where he would sit here, door locked, hearing his family downstairs gather with all other Death Eaters. It was something he once wanted. And now, he found himself in this same situation with Astoria. Something that once was desirable was now the opposite. Though he had just gotten to the point of realizing that they weren’t exactly the right fit for each other, Draco wondered if they had been opposites this whole time.</p><p> </p><p>Later that evening, Draco sat in the living room, staring at his owl who was perched diligently at his windowsill. He was staring back at him in what Draco could only feel was anger or some sort of resentment that he hadn’t given him any work in such a long time. Just last month, his owl was frequently on the prowl, headed to Hermione’s house with purpose and intention. Now, he just sat there. No words exchanged between him and the witch in agonizingly long weeks.</p><p>From where he sat, he could hear Astoria rustling about in the kitchen, the smell of her cuisine quite delicious, but again, Draco couldn’t bring himself to eat. He was too caught in his own thoughts. This should have been done a long time ago. But here he was, about to call off his wedding just one week before it was set to happen. The thought pained him, but something far deeper that plagued him other than the embarrassment he felt for doing this, was the unchanging feeling of how right this felt to him.</p><p>“Dinner’s ready, my love.” She called to him from the kitchen. Draco didn’t move a single muscle. He didn’t even intend on doing so. Some part of him feared that if he tried with all his efforts, to end the relationship that he would eventually get sucked back in and stay out of fear.</p><p>“I’m not hungry.” He explained softly, causing Astoria to walk towards him. She pressed her cold hand to his forehead and examined him closely.</p><p>“Are you ill,” She started, trying to sense anything that would indicate so. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”</p><p>“Not much of an appetite, I guess.” He shrugged, his stomach beginning to twist at her closeness. The thought of ending things seemed far more suitable when he wasn’t so near to her.</p><p>“Well, you best break out of that,” She spoke, trotting back into the kitchen. “You have to have your strength for the wedding. Now come and try to eat something.”</p><p>Astoria left Draco alone, and without really thinking, he stood up and followed her to the kitchen, sitting down with her and in front of the plate she fixed for him. The silence between them was insurmountable. He couldn’t tell what Astoria was thinking, but more than anything, he wished he could. He wished he could plant the thought in her mind gently without hurting her, but he realized it was far too late for all of that.</p><p>He watched as she began to eat, slicing her meat in perfect dices, then stacking potatoes and greens onto her fork in one<em> perfect</em> bite. It was probably the one fascinating thing about Astoria—how careful she was with the way she ate. She never used to eat like that at Hogwarts. She wasn’t as refined and well-polished. He sort of missed that.</p><p>Astoria, sensing eyes on her, looked up at her fiancé who was staring, and covered her mouth as she were just about to speak.</p><p>“What? It’s one of the last few days I can eat regular meals like this before I bloat up and can’t fit into the dress,” She started. “It’s a good thing Hermione was there when I picked it out. Speaking of which, have you heard from her? You would think that she would check up on us with such a short amount of time left to go.”</p><p>Draco shifted in his seat at the mention of her name. It nearly came as a surprise to him. He hadn’t heard her name in so long. Not since his dream, at least. He didn’t even bring himself to let Astoria know that she had quit the wedding. Everything was just piling up on top of him at this point.</p><p>“What did you want to be when you were younger?” He asked her, settling in on the fact that his question may not resonate well with her. She stared at him for a moment and smiled.</p><p>“I wanted to be a Muggle, Draco,” She joked with a brief eye roll. “Why the silly question?”</p><p>Draco expected this reaction, even though he didn’t really know where he was coming from either.</p><p>“I just wanted to know. Honestly.”</p><p>Astoria swallowed some of her dinner and forked the rest as she did so routinely; meat, potatoes, greens, in that order.</p><p>“I never really gave it any thought. I always wanted to be a mother, that’s for certain,” Astoria looked over at her fiancé, examining him though getting nothing. “What about you?”</p><p>“I’ve always loved Potions. And the man that connected me to it all was Professor Snape. He was a fine, complex man with so much to offer. He was cold, of course, but he took special care and watched over me when the most troubling time came over me.”</p><p>“Yes, yes, I know, Draco. When you had been tasked to kill Dumbledore. What of it?”</p><p>Draco grew sad by her response. He was trying to share bits of himself, the way she had asked him to do so many times before, and found out as a result that she was brushing him off like she didn’t want to hear it. It shouldn’t have mattered if he told her this before, but the fact that she said it like it were nothing bothered him deeply.</p><p>“Astoria, I want to be a Potions Professor at Hogwarts. And I’m not sure if McGonagall will accept my offer, but I want to try.”</p><p>“Draco, you don’t even need to work. You have such a handsome inheritance from your father. If you asked me, I would personally love it if you would stay home with me and our future children. Don’t you think,” Astoria’s voice was shrill and harsh. Though she had asked Draco that question, she didn’t wait for him to get the chance to respond before continuing on. “You future has already been set up for you and you continue to try and defy that. Is it because you’ve gotten everything you ever wanted? You shouldn’t be ashamed of that, if you are. Many people would dream of living in a mansion. I know I did, and I will. <em>We</em> will.”</p><p>“That’s not me at all. Yes, I’m grateful for my privileges but that doesn’t mean I have no interest other than receiving an inheritance and sitting on my arse.”</p><p>“Can we please make this conversation quick? I am very tired, especially from my sister’s outburst at the Manor. It’s not my fault she couldn’t make her engagement work and is taking it out on me.”</p><p>Draco huffed a bit, and suddenly Hermione’s words came rushing back to him: Do something brave today.</p><p>“Astoria, do you love me?” His voice was honest and curious, something that shocked Astoria more than he thought it would.</p><p>“What a trivial thing to ask.”</p><p>“What a trivial thing to say to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”</p><p>Astoria briefly wiped her mouth with her handkerchief and looked at him from across their small table. Their flat was quiet, too quiet. He had hoped the radio were on at least to make the scene less dramatic and tense but no. Their only background sound was the incessant drip coming from their kitchen faucet. That was barely audible, but yet able to be made out from the stillness in the air between them.</p><p>“Love is not what makes a marriage, Draco. Marriage is an alliance. It is a partnership,” Astoria grabbed her fork and began stacking her food. Meat, potatoes, greens. Then, she spoke again. “It’s so much more than petty little feelings and ‘I love you’ here and there.”</p><p>Draco looked down at his plate and pushed it away from him, resting his elbows down as he looked at the woman across from him. What an awful way to see marriage. It was the same way his mother and father saw it, and though it were their opinions, he couldn’t help but feel they were completely and totally wrong. Draco sucked in a breath and stopped all his thoughts.</p><p>“I don’t think I want to get married, anymore.”</p><p>Astoria paused and turned her attention to him, focusing profoundly. In that moment, Draco wanted to use occlumency in order to control his emotions, but felt that in this moment, he needed them the most. So, all he could bring himself to do was to just watch her as she watched him in the most awkward staring contest imaginable. He was sure she would toss her food at him, call him a prick, and be done with it. At least, he hoped it were that easy.</p><p>But it wasn’t.</p><p>Astoria looked back down at her food and shuffled her dish around and spoke up rather softly this time.</p><p>“That’s not funny, Draco.”</p><p>It took him a little while to fully come to terms with how she had responded to this. She wasn’t listening to him. She wasn’t taking him seriously.</p><p>“I’m not joking.”</p><p>Astoria didn’t look up at him, neither did she respond after he spoke. Instead, she took a few more forks of food, and placed it down on the plate. Her whole demeanor had shifted. She was visibly upset with her face reddening. Now, it was getting real.</p><p>“When did you decide this?”</p><p>“Recently.” Draco murmured.</p><p>“<em>Recently</em>,” She repeated in sheer confusion. She stood up slowly, towering over the man as her eyes illuminated with fire. “Draco, I have a wedding dress hanging outside of our closet. I sent out two-hundred and twenty wedding invitations to our guests. Our wedding is in the papers! How could you do this to me?”</p><p>“Would you have rather I not tell you? Get married next week and spend the rest of my life unhappy?” He snarled.</p><p>“I would have preferred you told me months ago and not a week before I walk down the bloody aisle,” Astoria took a moment to center herself and take some deep breaths. “It’s fine. It’s all fine. You’re just having second thoughts. It happens to everyone. We can push through this and I forgive you for bringing this up. Let’s just act like this never happened.”</p><p>Astoria moved both of their plates to the bin, dumping the food and landing them in the sink. She began to wipe down the surface of their table in vigorous circles. Draco stood up, sadness and guilt fighting for control within him as he placed a careful hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“I don’t want to get married, Astoria.”</p><p>“You do,” Astoria pressed, turning around to face her fiancé.</p><p>“I don’t!” Draco felt awful that he had shouted. He never shouted at Astoria before, nor did he expect things to get to this point. Then again, he could never truly predict how a breakup would go, let alone a call off of an engagement. So, he calmed himself down before he continued. “I want to be in love, Astoria. I want to know what that feels like, and what it would be like to get married to someone you love unconditionally. And I didn’t realize it until now, but the way you and your family strive to please mine made me realize that I was doing that but with my father. I was trying so hard to please him. And I hated it.”</p><p>“So then let’s just postpone the wedding. Let’s try again later,” She pleaded, but Draco couldn’t handle saying no. He hung his head down low, his eyes focusing on the ring he had given her for their engagement. But, in his silence, Astoria took that for as much of an answer that she needed. “Judging by your silence, I’m assuming this is the end of the relationship.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Draco spoke genuinely and truly. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, but it hard for him, too, ever since July.</p><p>“You’ve ended our wedding and all you can say is sorry?” Astoria asked, her face in disbelief. Draco swallowed hard. He didn’t want her to hate him, but he knew that was impossible to rely on right now. Astoria started down the hall to their bedroom, but then turned around midway and stalked back over towards him. “I hope you know that they’ll never accept her. NEVER!”</p><p>“Who?” Draco blinked, though he answered his own question when her face popped in his mental, the same way he imagined her from the dream, and damned himself for thinking of her right as he were ending his relationship.</p><p>“Who the fuck do you think, Draco?” Astoria growled. Her voice was low and unlike her own. There was hate in her eyes as she stared at him, and what Draco also noticed from her was that that was the first ounce of realness he had seen from the young woman in what seemed like a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hello Hello Hello! I hope you all are well! This chapter was very very intense for me to write, trying to bring out the frustration that was building up inside of both Draco AND Astoria, but I do hope you enjoy it! Now, it’s time to see if our favorite ship will sink or swim ;) As always, your support is much appreciated! All your kind words, feedback, questions and kudos. NEXT UPDATE: 12/15! --</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione are shocked by an article that comes out in The Daily Prophet, and Hermione finally reads Draco’s letters.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The intensity within the room was enough for Draco to fully comprehend how upset his parents were. Neither of them spoke or even looked at him. But while his eyes were fixated on his parents, all they could do was stare at today’s copy of The Daily Prophet. He wished so terribly hard that he could just skip to the Quidditch part of the paper and pretend that he wasn’t the main topic of the issue. But he couldn’t. He knew that no matter what, Rita Skeeter’s pry into his private life was far more interesting to the rest of the world. A former Death Eater trying to find love. How silly. How unbecoming of a man of his caliber. But still, Draco had to admit how unnerved he were by a once pleasant photograph of him and Astoria plastered on the front page. The picture had been charmed as to where it would eventually split in a jagged line right down the middle in between the former couple, just enough to peak everyone’s interest and thoroughly stir the pot. Draco knew that that was one of few things Rita Skeeter was good at, next to gossiping, but this wasn’t just petty words here and there. These were attacks.</p><p> </p><p>On the front of the page, just above the picture of him and Astoria were big, bold print that read:</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>UNTYING THE KNOT: MALFOY, GREENGRASS </em>
</p><p>
  <em>CALL OFF WEDDING OF THE AGES</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Draco first broke up with Astoria, he didn’t think it would be easy. It would’ve been foolish to assume so. He knew that there would be challenges to come from calling off the wedding so suddenly. But he didn’t expect for them to be a topic for the entire world to see. And to that, it angered him. Draco thrived on having a private life. He loved knowing he wasn’t thought of or considered much anymore. He was appreciative of the fact that he had fallen into a quiet routine, but ever since the engagement, that all changed. He hated being in the limelight and hated it even more for every bit of himself being announced. He wasn’t a celebrity. He didn’t want or need this treatment. Yet, he still got it even when it hurt him. But the worst of it all came when he opened the article to find more details of his failed relationship right on page 6.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>When two young, bright Slytherins meet and get on</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rather well, the number one thing most would assume</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is that they would get married and live happily</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ever after in a big mansion such as the Malfoy Manor</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And with dark, mysterious furniture to decorate the</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Space. However, love stories just aren’t for people</em>
</p><p>
  <em>With such a damned past like Draco Malfoy, former </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Death Eater and servant to the fallen Dark Lord. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Malfoy (24) and Astoria Greengrass (22) had just announced</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their engagement via a close yet private source this</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Past Summer. It was described by many to be the wedding</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of the ages. Two noble families, both Slytherin, and of</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The Sacred 28, were supposed to be joined on Dec. 31,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which is also known to witches and wizards alike as the</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Day the day that Voldemort was born. The wedding, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which consisted of roughly four-hundred and thirty guests,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And a dragon or two from Romania to escort the couple to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their honeymoon, was called off on Christmas Eve. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sources tell us the end of the relationship came as a shock</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To the young Greengrass witch, who was ready to fly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Down the aisle, if given the opportunity. Though</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Many are shocked by the sudden change of plan,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It is to be noted that sometime in early Fall,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Malfoy had been seen out with a familiar face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wedding Planner Hermione Granger (25), </em>
</p><p>
  <em>and member of the Golden Trio, was seen out</em>
</p><p>
  <em> having a few drinks with Malfoy at the time of the</em>
</p><p>
  <em> engagement, laughing closely and sharing a long,</em>
</p><p>
  <em> intimate hug. Could it be that the wizard had</em>
</p><p>
  <em> fallen for the coordinator of his event? Very likely. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What we do know is that Greengrass is distraught </em>
</p><p>
  <em>and deeply embarrassed by the cancellation. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Right beside the article was a photograph of him and Hermione hugging, the same day he had given her her birthday gift. A part of Draco felt guilty. He knew that he had seen a camera flash, but he wasn’t certain. And now, because of his carelessness, he had brought Hermione into his breakup which was plastered all over the papers. He wondered how she was taking this, if she had even seen it at all. He wanted to see her above all else, with a protectiveness that came over him unlike before. If only he knew how to properly reach her. But still, a matter more pressing was faced before him as he sat in front of his mother and father.</p><p> </p><p>Draco watched them, taking notice of how his mother looked more concerned about the article. He hardly wanted to look at his father, afraid to see any sort of emotion on his face from the article and it’s contents, but he had to know. He stole a quick glance in his direction and instantly regretted it. His father’s face looked red from fury, with his mouth twisted in an awful frown. He looked as though if he had the displeasure of seeing the hug once more in the article, that he would regurgitate from disgust. It was clear he was bursting with an urge to say something— <em>anything</em> to get some sort of explanation for his son’s behavior with a Muggle-born, but too many questions swarmed him at once. He couldn’t possibly get them all out in one shot.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa shifted in her seat and carefully closed the article. Though, once she did, she saw the photograph of Astoria and Draco on the cover, their photo being ripped apart, and ultimately decided to turn the newspaper over, face down. She was silent for a moment, turning to her husband as though waiting for him to speak first, and then turned to her son.</p><p> </p><p>“What a terrible article. Rita Skeeter clearly gets her kicks out of fabricating stories,” Narcissa stopped briefly and blinked, needing reassurance. “It is just a fabrication, right Draco?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco sighed, knowing just how everything looked. It was no point in trying to explain himself to Astoria. He knew that with the way she disliked Hermione, it wouldn’t be useful to tell her he didn’t cheat on her with Hermione. But he knew that his mother could see right through him in a heartbeat.</p><p> </p><p>“Hermione is just my friend, mum,” He started. “Or she <em>was</em> my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>“Friends,” Lucius stood up from the table with an obnoxious scoff, gripping his walking stick tightly. “You look a lot more than friends in the bloody paper.”</p><p> </p><p>“She is,” Draco pressed. “I was never unfaithful to Astoria.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you two meet, then? In private. It just looked so…intimate.” Narcissa’s eyes were looking for answers, though she had an awful feeling that she already knew them. She knew there was something deeper going on with her son that he wasn’t speaking on.</p><p> </p><p>“I gave her a birthday gift. A book. It was harmless.” He persisted, though his eyes darted to Lucius who huffed at his explanation. His face soon became drained of all need to hold himself back, and he reared himself closer towards his son.</p><p> </p><p>“Presenting gifts? To a Mud-blood? The audacity. The shame you’ve put onto this family name!”</p><p> </p><p>Draco didn’t even register his mother trying to calm his father down. All he could see before him was this man. This man that he once idolized so greatly, who he had tried so hard to defend to the outside world and please. And yet, here he was, disrespecting a witch he had strong feelings for. Soon, Astoria took forefront in his mind, reminding him of her last words to him the night they broke up. <em>They will never accept her. </em>Perhaps she was right, but at this point, he didn’t need them to accept her. He needed them to respect her. Draco stood up, his eyes meeting his father’s as he reached into his jacket pocket and grabbed his wand, aiming it at his father.</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa let out a shrill gasp at the sight and watched Lucius do the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Do not call her that.” Draco spoke slowly, willing to get his point across.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ve spent all this money. All this time and energy on your wedding. And for what? For you to be ungrateful towards us and throw it all away for a filthy little Mud-blood crush.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco could feel tears forming in his eyes at the slur, bringing him back to his younger years when he wrongfully called Hermione those exact same words. Those words that had once been so easy for him to spit, were now stomach churning, forbidden words he had never planned to say ever again. Draco glanced down at his father’s wand and snarled at the sight.</p><p> </p><p>“Expelliarm—”</p><p> </p><p>“Stupefy!”</p><p> </p><p>In a matter of seconds, Draco went flying and landed on his back in the dining room with a thud. Lucius looked at his wife briefly who had tears in her eyes from what occurred. She had never seen Draco raise his wand to his father, and she certainly dreaded the fact that he was unconscious now as a result of his disobedience. Narcissa even knew this wouldn’t sit well with the Ministry once they found out Lucius used the charm so close to the end of their probation. And, in a fit of desperation, she rushed to her son’s side and took out her wand.</p><p> </p><p>“Rennervate.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco gasped and woke up, his eyes darting around, trying to recall what happened. In his absence, he could only remember how he avoided the charm once before when Hermione tried to cast it on him. Until this moment, he had never knew what it felt like to be Stupefied. It was like he was floating, lost in his own mind, but without any sort of control until he was pulled back by his mother. Draco focused on Lucius as he sat up, ignoring the pain just in case his father were to go off the deep end once again.</p><p> </p><p>“Silly boy. You dare try to disarm your father? The one who has given you everything you ever needed? What disgrace you have brought unto the Malfoy name.” Lucius gave him one final look of contempt before turning to walk out of the dining room. He hadn’t planned on speaking another word to his son, but Draco was not yet done with him.</p><p> </p><p>“And what about you, father? You’ve led mother and I along the path of a deranged, blood thirsty wizard. And you’ve never stopped to wonder what it has done to me or mother. How’s that for disgraceful?”</p><p> </p><p>Lucius stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder just slightly, only to give his son a look that Draco had never really seen before. The coldest, blah gaze that was devoid of all emotion or love.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s clear that I have no idea who you are anymore, and I have no interest in knowing this new you.” And with that, the elder Malfoy exited the dining room. Draco simply sat there, still a bit shaken from everything that had occurred, and stood up, politely disregarding the help that was coming from his mother.</p><p> </p><p>Draco sat back down at the dining table and grabbed the Daily Prophet. He crumbled up the paper angrily and tossed it off to the side as Narcissa took her seat back next to him. He made a point to not look at his mother, only knowing that it would break him further if he did.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you alright?” Narcissa asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine.” He didn’t mean to be so bitter, especially to his mother, but it was hard to tell who was really concerned for him and who had his best interests at heart.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard from Astoria’s mother. She’s taking it pretty hard,” Narcissa started. Though, upon seeing her son not respond to anything she said, she decided to continue. “Maybe you should talk to her. Give her that last bit of reassurance. Who knows, maybe you two could even fix this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to fix it,” Draco was nearly pleading for this to stop. The act of putting himself first was still so new to him that he almost saw it as wrong. He already knew what he wanted and who he wanted. It certainly was not Astoria. “I want to be happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco watched his mother’s face register what he said. She clasped her hands together gently and looked at her son. Their gaze was intense, full of unspoken feelings and words. Draco was sure that he would hear any sort of resentment coming from her, too. It was only a matter of time, anyways. But something else stirred from Narcissa in place of what she already knew to be true.</p><p> </p><p>“When my sister, Andromeda, married that Tonks man, it put a huge strain on our family. She was instantly disowned from the Black family tree. As a matter of fact, I never saw her again when I found out that she had went against our mother and father and married him. I hardly heard them speak her name again, until she sent a letter saying that she had a baby girl. As much as I wanted her to stay in our circle, in our family, I couldn’t understand why she would throw her whole family away for a Muggle-born man. It still hurts me, to this day, that we weren’t good enough for her to stay, especially with so many suitable Pure-blood men out there,” Narcissa reached over to her son, placing a hand on his. Draco took that chance to actually see her for the pain that she genuinely had, and it bothered him. Greatly. “I already lost a sister, Draco. I cannot fathom my own pain from losing my only child in the same way.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco felt his eyes sting with tears at her plea. She was desperate, nearly begging him to stay away from Hermione despite how unhappy it would make him. And yet,  even though he sympathized with his mother for what pain she endured at the expense of her sister, that was <em>her</em> choice to not reach out and contact her. Even though he wasn’t on speaking terms with Hermione, he knew that what his mother was asking of him was far too much, considering how great Hermione was to him.</p><p> </p><p>The young man stood up, pulling his hands gently away from his mother. He gave her a weak, saddened smile and sighed to himself. He was tired, so incredibly tired of everyone trying to tell him what to do. The only thing he wanted to do, from this point on, was to see Hermione if he was ever granted the chance. And so, as he continued to stare at his mother, taking in the fear and confusion on her face, he apparatus right out of the dining room.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>That particular day, just as the Daily Prophet had been delivered to her flat, Hermione was crawled up with her book on the couch. Crookshanks was by her side, as usual now. She had grown quite accustomed to him being her only company, lately. Still, the quietness of her home was something she didn’t enjoy too much. Harry was spending most of his time with the Weasley’s and with good reason. The more Hermione thought of his and Ginny’s engagement, the more she wondered how Draco’s was going. She wanted to know if he actually had decided to go through with it, and if he had taken into consideration everything she was trying to explain to him before. But, she tried not to think of him too much. Of course her feelings for him were still there, but that didn’t mean that she could think of him so freely. And the fact that she was reading the book he gifted her certainly didn’t help.</p><p> </p><p>Needing something that would take her mind off of her feelings, she turned to the neatly rolled up newspaper that had been delivered earlier this morning by her owl. She reached forward onto the coffee table and grabbed the print. Unraveling it quickly, Hermione gasped at the front cover, shock entering her entire being as she read the headlines.</p><p> </p><p>She placed the paper back down on the table, initially too stunned to look it over and too emotional to look at his face, but decided against her frets. She flipped to the page and scanned the article in such a quickness that seemed as though she weren’t retaining any word of the text, and then let out a scream at the photograph of her and Draco in a loop, hugging while at Hogsmeade.</p><p> </p><p>One too many thoughts graced over the witch as she watched, taking in how it was printed and speculated that she was the cause of the couple’s split. She didn’t enjoy it, being seen as some sort of enemy and relationship ruiner, but it didn’t make the situation any less bad for her. Everyone had read the paper today, and everyone now saw her as unprofessional in some context.</p><p> </p><p>Hermione could feel her eyes well up with tears at the hurtful content. Sure, Rita Skeeter had nothing better to do as a journalist than to shun others with misinformation, but it didn’t look well. Her eyes landed on the picture of her and Draco, and as much as she wanted to be upset that they were caught sharing a hug, more than anything, she reflected on how happy she was when she was hugging him. It was right there in her face, in black and white. For a moment she smiled, her fingers tracing over Draco for a moment. She missed him terribly.</p><p> </p><p>As she stared at his handsome face, she jolted up, instantly remembering the one thing she had been avoiding for so long. She rushed down her hall with Crookshanks meowing curiously behind her every step and opened her closet door. It was cleaner since Ron had cleared his junk out of the way. She was there when he had done so, making extra sure that he wouldn’t stumble upon the letters that Draco sent which would’ve made the breakup a lot harder than it needed to be.</p><p> </p><p>She grabbed the box quickly with a jump and placed herself on the cold floor with the box in front of her. Her heart began to race just at the idea of what each letter contained, and figured there was only one way to find out. She stood in a deep, steady breath and turned the box upside down, starting from the first letter he had sent to her since the Halloween party.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Hermione, I need to talk to you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to talk to you. If this is</em>
</p><p>
  <em>About me dancing with you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please let me know.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                        -DM</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Hermione placed that letter aside and grabbed the next one in the pile.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                                                <em>I tried to owl you a couple times</em></p><p>
  <em>                                                Already. Please owl me back?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                I think Astoria is watching my</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                Owl. Only owl me before I go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                In to work, or at night. I’ll</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                Wait up for you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>                                                                        —DM</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Then another.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I finished Pride &amp; Prejudice </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I actually loved it. It</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Made me think of you. I tried</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To reread it but it seems like</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can’t find my copy. Maybe </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can borrow yours? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                        -Draco</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Hermione inhaled deeply and continued on. The rest were about casual matters. Things they’ve discussed before and just Draco trying, incessantly, to make things right. But she never would reply. Though Hermione prided herself on having nothing to ever be regretful towards, not opening these sooner would be the one thing she did regret. Hermione reached for the final message that Draco had sent her, one that had come in pretty recently.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t know if you’re even</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reading my messages, anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m not sure if you hate me or</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not. But I decided to do</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something brave. Not for you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Or for anyone else, but for me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>At this point, Hermione knew this was what Draco had meant by his brave task. And while she was proud of him, she was also sad for him. She didn’t want things to be this way, and she almost felt bad for the fact that she had been so hard on him beforehand. She knew that his life wasn’t as easy as everyone believed, but she cared for him too much to watch him live an unhappy life, even if she wouldn’t be in it. Hermione held this note closely, her eyes closing as she wished it were him that she was hugging, instead. All the thoughts of their arguments, what she said to him rang in the air in the empty room. She was upset that she had let these go unnoticed to her for so long.</p><p> </p><p>As Hermione sat, sitting there with the rest of the letters sprawled around her, she noticed a small pecking come from her window. She looked up, Crookshanks hissing at the familiar owl, and headed over quickly to let in Draco’s owl. She was surprised, after all this time and the article in the paper, that he was still trying to reach out to her. Regardless, Hermione nearly ripped open the letter and stood in complete shock at its contents.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>‘There are few people whom</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I really love, and still fewer </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of whom I think well. The</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More I see of the world, the</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More am I dissatisfied with it;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And every day confirms my </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Belief of the inconsistency </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of all human characters,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And of the little dependence </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That can be placed on the</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Appearance of merit or sense.’</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I miss you, Hermione. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>                        -DM</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Though excited from another letter from him that included a quote from the book they both read, Hermione struggled with this particular message sent to her. He wasn’t here, and as much as she wanted him to be, she strongly felt that the notice of his ended engagement was too soon for her to fully commit herself to missing him back. She was scared, of course, for plenty of reasons. She feared that she would soon fall too into her own emotions and get turned around unexpectedly by the handsome Malfoy. She wondered if he felt the same way that she did, or less. She wondered if him liking her was all due, in part, to the fact he didn’t like Astoria, at all. Hermione frowned. She loved to have thought of Draco as someone she could reunite with and even possibly romantically, but she just wasn’t sure if thinking of him in this way, and so soon, was harmful to the way they would further progress.</p><p> </p><p>Hermione sent away his owl gently, who had grown used to her not responding at this point, and retreated back to her place on the floor with the rest of the letters that she promised silently to store away and keep forever. And, in her moment of cleaning up all of his words that he sent to her, she let herself fall into a memory from so long ago that she had once forgotten.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>November 26, 1994</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The library was cold and nearly empty, as usual on a typical Saturday evening. Though neither Harry nor Ron wanted to find out more information about the golden egg that Harry won until the date for the second task grew nearer, Hermione took it upon herself to retreat to her favorite place just for a bit of light reading. She had found more than she intended, of course, but didn’t mind the fact that she would be tackling such topics alone. She enjoyed the fact that no one was there to disrupt her with their constant chatting and nagging. Maybe she could get some work done, too, if only she had her homework nearby. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The section that Hermione normally frequented was dull and quiet, with not many students wanting to sit so far off in the back of the library. She had overheard a few students calling it creepy and eerie. But to her delight, she found a place where she could just be alone.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Right when Hermione was just in the thick of her book, possibly finding something that could be of use to Harry when the second task came around, she stopped when hearing the sound of footprints heading in her direction. The young witch looked up, seeing who it was, and held her breath when noticing it was Malfoy. Hermione narrowed her eyes when seeing him, dressed down in all black, and carrying his schoolbooks. He was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. But, did it really come as a surprise to him? Everyone knew this was Hermione’s first and probably only favorite place. Still, she ignored the fact that his shoes began louder than her thoughts as he neared her, and tried to find where she left off in her book. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What are you doing here?” Malfoy sneered as he looked at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at the teen. Her attention turned to the books sprawled across the table and looked back up at him, unimpressed with such an odd question. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What does it look like I’m doing?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>She watched as his cheeks reddened from her answer and attempted to turn back to her book, but was stopped when he decided to speak up once again.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>“I always sit here. You’re in </em>my<em> seat.” </em></p><p>
  
</p><p><em>“I hardly think this is </em>your<em> seat,” Hermione smirked. “Unless you‘ll ask your father to put your name on it and have it done by tomorrow. Until then, sit somewhere else. I came here first.” </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione looked away from him and back to her book, though she wasn’t reading. She was watching what he was doing without giving him the satisfaction of a cold look or glare. She had learned firsthand that staying as lowkey as possible in front of Malfoy was the best thing for her. As long as she didn’t draw any attention to herself to receive a ‘Mud-blood’ thrown at her here and there, she was fine.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Draco, on the other hand, pouted and sat at the same table, eyeing Hermione briefly before sitting down near her and opening his books. As Hermione ignored the boy, engulfing herself further into the book, she read consistently on everything there is to know about the Triwizard Tournament and yet not finding any source on why a fourth person could have possibly been picked. Soon, after she had picked up the pace with her research, she heard a snicker come from the direction of the wizard nearby. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione looked up and glared at Malfoy who had a mischievous smirk on his face at the sight of her. She tucked some hair behind her ear and slammed her book closed. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Your nose was practically in the book, Granger. Literally.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Aren’t you supposed to be studying or something? Trying to figure out how to become the next dark wizard or something?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Draco’s eyes darted to the books on her desk, studying the covers of them carefully. He hadn’t known that he was just as interested in the Tournament like he was, but refused to dive into the common interest for just a moment to reply bitterly to her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I suppose you’re trying to find out more information on why your Yule Ball date was picked.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“What,” Hermione asked, thinking of her Yule Ball date briefly and then turning to him with red cheeks. “Viktor was picked because he’s a brilliant wizard. There’s no other reason behind it.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Draco blinked at her statement and leaned forward towards her. He was thinking, deeply, as he studied the girl.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Viktor Krum is taking you to the Ball?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Isn’t that who you meant by date?” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>Draco sat back in his seat, clearly perplexed by the revelation he was under the impression that she and Harry were going together . He didn’t quite understand why, but there was a shock that settled uneasily within him at the information. Draco wasn’t sure if it was because he was actually talking to the witch for the first time without his and her own entourage that made him feel different for just a split second. But the more he dawned on it, the more he couldn’t think of why Viktor Krum, of all people, would take </em>her<em> to the ball. Draco wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Hermione was blossoming beautifully, and he did find a girl with intellect to be ideal for him, but she was a Muggle-born witch. How could someone he respected immediately be so openly attracted to her? That thought unsettled him in a way that only could be seen as slight jealousy. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Draco drew himself out of the mindset he had unfortunately found himself in, and shook it off as he remembered the point he was trying to make. He braced himself for his signature scowl and crossed his arms. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“So Viktor is taking you to the ball, but you’re hugged up with Potter in The Daily Prophet?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>All the color practically drained from Hermione’s face at his remark. She nearly leapt over towards the foul wizard, but stopped herself. She desperately wanted to interrogate him further and find out everything he knew, but all she could manage to do was brush him off, just in case he were simply messing with her. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Hermione insisted as she waved her wand and sent her stack of books afloat right beside her. She got up from her seat and started to excuse herself until Draco began to speak once again. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“All I’m saying is that Rita Skeeter’s got a photo of you two in the papers,” Malfoy made a brief gesture as though he were taking a photo of the witch with his own hands. “Wouldn’t be so nice to go to the Yule Ball alone if Viktor found out.” Draco forced a smirk on his face to cover up the turmoil stirring within him. He couldn’t understand why he didn’t entirely want her to leave, but Hermione was adamant on doing so. She leaned against the table just in front of him and returned the smirk. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Interesting,” Hermione started, a mischievous smile growing on him. “I didn’t peg you to be the jealous type, Malfoy.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>And with that, the young witch turned on her heels and started out of the library. As she walked, the only thing that plagued her mind was that she and Harry were in the papers, according to Malfoy. She tried to brush it off, thinking that if it were true, someone would have came to her with that information already, but they hadn’t. And so, Hermione walked down the corridors with her books following, both confused and stunned that she had had a conversation with Malfoy that didn’t involve slurs. But much more than that, a conversation with Malfoy where he almost seemed jealous for a moment. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Hermione, now laying on the floor of her bedroom, snapped out of the memory and drew in a steady breath. She hated how this felt; the loneliness that she had once convinced herself wasn’t such, and was simply just a product of her newly being alone. But with the article that she had read and the letters that surrounded her on the floor, Hermione struggled with wondering what was the correct thing to do. As much as she felt slightly responsible and guilty for Draco’s ended engagement, she disliked the one thing that haunted her the most— the need to see the wizard that she had fallen for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello everyone! I hope this chapter is a good one for you all! I don’t see it as my best chapter unfortunately, since I’ve been a little unwell. Because of this, I’ll have to push back the update dates, since I’m a little slower than normal with my writing. I do apologize though!! But regardless, I hope you all enjoy it and stay well! Thanks for all your appreciation and kudos. It’s truly appreciated and loved. Xx NEXT UPDATE: 12/18–</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione ties up loose ends with some close friends and is invited to Draco's flat to celebrate the New Year.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING: This chapter does get explicit further down the line, towards the end!! Read at your own risk!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Being back at the Ministry was an entirely different feeling for Hermione, considering that nearly every witch and wizard who was here had just saw the papers with her face in it a mere two days ago. It was an unsettling, uncomfortable experience to endure but she could only wonder how Draco was managing it. And even so, how Astoria was handling all of this. The confusion and embarrassment that she faced from just the article had gotten to her in the worst ways, and while she still found herself entranced in the idea of planning events for happy couples, and even considering the unhappy ones, she felt that it was time for a change. A much-needed change. Her Christmas gift to herself this year was courage, in ways she hadn’t ever tackled it before. She needed to uphold her tough exterior if she knew that stepping foot back in the Ministry meant that she would get a few judgmental looks here and there. Regardless, she was ready.</p><p>A tall, older witch walked by, staring at Hermione nearly her whole way past her. Yeah, she needed a ton of courage to just watch the woman stare from where she sat in the Ministry’s waiting area as she passed her by, and not react unprofessionally. All eyes were on her, and this was the image the world had of her, unfortunately. Soon, Kingsley resurfaced and greeted Hermione with a smile, though all she could do was focus on the man, unsure of what he would say regarding their interview. But reading his face, it seemed positive, though she didn’t want to get her hopes up just in case his smile were only to soften the blow.</p><p>“Alright, Miss Granger,” Kingsley started. Hermione stood with complete quickness. “I’ve considered your points and your great passion you had once working here. I’m also grateful that you’ve had some time to yourself away from the chaos, despite recent events. Ultimately, we would like to extend an offer to you to work at the Ministry of Magic, by yours truly.”</p><p>Unable to contain her excitement, Hermione bit her bottom lip to humble herself and took in a deep breath. She could see the amusement in the man’s eyes, and it was understandable. He knew how people were talking about the situation between her, Draco, and Astoria. But he didn’t pay it much mind. In fact, he hated the Daily Prophet for the fact that their writings were the complete opposite of “prophecies”.</p><p>“Thank you kindly, sir,” She started, shaking his hand and letting all of her excitement show once she did. “Where would I be? When do I start?”</p><p>Kingsley’s face softened a bit from a smile into seriousness. He sighed a bit and guided the young witch into his office so they could talk privately and personally. His office was far bigger than Hermione expected, and she felt almost shameful that even as she worked for the Ministry beforehand, she had never frequented Kingsley’s office. On the walls were intricate, cultural designs in shades of purple and gold; royal colors, of course. His office was lit, albeit dimly, by a few enchanted candles hovering above his desk with larger ones in the corners of the office. It was truly an atmosphere she hadn’t seen from a Minister before, and she particularly liked it. But, she knew that gawking over his space was her way of getting her mind off the elephant in the room. So, she sat down at the other side of his desk and watched him ponder on where to start. And then, once he finally did, Hermione drew in a slow, shaky breath.</p><p>“As you know, The Daily Prophet is sold here and just two days ago, on the 26<sup>th</sup>, word spread around about a situation between you, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Greengrass. Are you aware?”</p><p>“I am.” Hermione nodded. How could she not be? It was the one thing she found herself thinking about and contemplating on. It was the one thing that was taking up her mental space. And in between worrying about what people were saying about her, she kept hoping that one day, she would bump into Draco just once, to see how he was doing and hear his voice. God, she missed him awful.</p><p>“Well, considering the openings we have available, one would put you in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement under the Improper Use of Magic office.”</p><p>Hermione perked up. It was the perfect opportunity. She could see Harry every now and then since they’d be in the same department, since she hadn’t seen him since before Christmas. She tried not to let that bother her though. She knew Harry was busy, especially since Ron was still staying over at his flat, but she did terribly miss spending evenings with Harry and Ginny. It would be the perfect fit, and above all else right now, she needed her friends.</p><p>“That’s perfect, sir.”</p><p>Kingsley blinked when looking at the young witch and held his hands together. There was a confused look on his face as she saw the girl, now, and she hoped greatly that she hadn’t said anything improper to make him rethink his decisions.</p><p>“Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley works in that department. It would be a conflict of interest to work there with your partner.”</p><p>Hermione could feel her cheeks reddening at his explanation. In the course of this whole ordeal, she had forgotten about Ron, and felt ashamed for that. A sickness developed in her stomach at the thought. Ron definitely hated her, and she hadn’t even considered him until now. She almost felt unworthy of considering his emotions during this time. Just as the world had been pointed to Draco’s marriage to Astoria, nearly everyone in the Ministry knew that Ron and Hermione were together, regardless of what ‘together’ looked like for them. Hermione lowered her head at Kingsley’s statement, and looked at her ringless hand.</p><p>“Ronald and I aren’t together anymore. But I understand,” Her voice low. “Is there anywhere else?”</p><p>“Well if I had it my way I’d have you work closely with me but…” Hermione watched the Minister trail off. She knew what he was going to refer to— How Draco was his junior assistant and how he couldn’t have them close, either, because of the horrid article. But, Hermione didn’t want to hear any more of that. So, she simply smiled and spoke up before he could.</p><p>“I get it,” She nodded. Though she were trying to remain positive, she couldn’t help but feel her confidence depleting just a bit from her diminishing options.</p><p>“There is one final option you may want to consider,” Kingsley pressed, still not yet ready to give up. “At the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, in the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad. Do you think it would be something you’d find yourself interested in?”</p><p>Hermione thought on the option. She knew of the department, having had bumped some of their employees a few times while riding the lift. They seemed friendly enough, but they seemed to have constant complaints about the difficulties of their jobs, without exposing too much information. But, she wanted a new start, and she couldn’t be afraid of a little hard work.</p><p>“Absolutely.” Hermione smiled.</p><p>After choosing the job, and with a sort of curiosity about it, Hermione was let out of the Minister’s office soon after. Though, just before she stepped out into the halls, Kingsley stopped her with some slight comforting words.</p><p>“Don’t. let the reporters get to you,” He started as he eyed the young witch carefully. “Whatever is said will be said, but we know it’s not who you really are.”</p><p>With that, Hermione was out of his office and alone, walking out and into the bustling crowds of the Ministry. She felt it were only best to keep a low profile. Well, as low as she could possibly keep it. There were so many eyes at this time and in this place, as usual. She tried to be brave, but more than anything she just needed to get out here as soon as possible, just for her sake.</p><p>With her head hanging low, trying to maneuver her way through the crowds, she heard some people whispering her name with a few other indicators strewn about such as “wedding” and “called off”. She couldn’t help but resent Astoria’s family for putting their wedding in the papers to begin with. Draco hated having unwanted attention thrown on him. What good would it do bringing reporters to the wedding, for any other reason but to boast and brag about such an accomplishment to the rest of the world?</p><p>As she continued walking, Hermione could feel eyes starting to glow on her as soon, a louder crowd came rushing towards her. There in the forefront, of course, was Rita Skeeter. Her quill was at the ready, approaching her in confident strides as her photographer followed. Hermione’s cheeks flushed red at the sight of her, and she couldn’t tell if she were just genuinely upset or upset that she would try to encounter her as though the article hadn’t been written just days ago.</p><p>“Miss Granger, what do you have to say regarding the wedding being called off? What were your thoughts? Did you see this coming?”</p><p>“I—I—” Hermione didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make her any less guilty or to blame. She knew she wasn’t, though. She had unfortunately gotten the opportunity to see how sad Draco was when he was doing what everyone else expected him to do. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, but she couldn’t blame herself for that, either. A crowd of reporters started to swarm around her, some she had never seen before, and much younger than Skeeter, herself.</p><p>“Miss Granger, are you back at the Ministry after realizing your business could no longer progress properly because of what you’ve done?” Another asked.</p><p>Hermione frowned at the insinuation and furrowed her brow.</p><p>“What I<em>’ve</em> done?” She asked, becoming overwhelmed with the unwanted attention. With so many people around her, she found it harder to breathe and especially hard to process what was going on. She had almost forgotten that she were in the Ministry, since she could barely see anything other than the sea of people surrounding her. She tried not to look mad, afraid that her expression would be in the papers. She tried not to look too calm, for fear of being seen as arrogant for what the world thought she did. But, Hermione knew that whatever it is that she would decide to do, it would always get taken out of context by the reporters and the judgmental public eye.</p><p>“Miss Granger, were you here to meet Mr. Malfoy for lunch?”</p><p>“Miss Granger, is it true that you’re now ready to wed the Malfoy heir, yourself?”</p><p>Then, just when Hermione thought that she would break down and cry right in the center of the Atrium, a firm grip surprised her incredibly as she was then pulled away from the crowd of people. They were pushed apart as though forcefully and spread away from her. Hermione watched as the crowd of reporters and journalists rolled on top of each other while on the floor, and she finally turned to her savior. There, standing tall in his signature black suit was Draco, a frown pressed furiously on his face as he eyed anyone with complete rage if they tried to take another photo. Hermione could feel her heart racing from the sight of him and glanced behind her. The reporters were snapping photographs, thriving in the moment that had just occurred, though not exactly following them.</p><p>Hermione turned back to Draco who was still walking with her wrist in his hand. He was well-kept and had more color to his face than usual. His usual straight hair was wavy from bustling through the crowds, and he looked focused. Entirely too focused to look at her at the moment, and soon entering into what she could only guess were his office. He opened the door with a wave of his wand and closed it.</p><p>“Colloportus,” Draco whispered. The door locked with a harsh click and Hermione watched from the center of the dark room, seeing him slowly turn around to face her. As soon as their eyes met, Hermione could feel all the weight of stress and madness from the reporters wearing off once she saw him. She wanted to rush towards him, pouring out all the passion that she felt towards him and had to bottle up because of his engagement. He looked good, really good, but more than anything, she wanted to talk to him.</p><p>“Hi.” Hermione whispered, smiling at him slightly as she leaned against his desk, shyly.</p><p>Draco grinned a bit at her simple choice of words and leaned against the back of his door, his arms crossing dutifully in font of his chest as he eyed her.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>Hermione studied the young man who was standing there, just as she remembered, strong and tall and quite pleased in himself for saving her from yet another publicity feat. She loved how proud of himself he were, though he would never fully show it. And in that moment, in the dark with nothing but silence surrounding them, Hermione rushed towards him with urgency, and threw her arms around him. Draco hugged her back, his arms tight around her waist that nearly made the young woman melt from his touch. Her breath, all shaky and unsteady, nestling against his neck as he held her close.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered into her. He was sorry for so much; for not doing what he did sooner, for not being brave sooner, and for not seizing the opportunity to do <em>this</em> sooner. But most important of all, with the young woman he longed for now settled in his embrace, he wanted her to know how sorry he was for the way the world looked at her because of their unlikely friendship.</p><p>“I’m sorry, too.” Hermione assured, her hands gripping on his suit jacket before letting go, not wanting to wrinkle any of his fine fabrics.</p><p>There, in his office, they embraced in a way that was long overdue. Through the silence much sweeter than the bitter silence they endured with one another for far too long, Hermione knew that if she ever got the chance to hug him again, she just might not let him go. But for now, she did. And she looked at him, with teary eyes that said so much more that words could not. As though reassuring herself, she looked down at his hand, bare of any rings, and then met his eyes once again.</p><p>“I got your letters.” She spoke, grounding herself to speak with a clear head rather than a mind that was now being altered by her emotions. “Even your last one.”</p><p>“Yeah, I uh found the book under my bed.” He returned her response with a smile. “I was terrified of losing it. Alwa said she didn’t have any other copies, but when I found it, I reread it and picked out that quote. For you.”</p><p>“You…you went to Alwa?” Hermione asked, both slightly amused and shocked at his attempts.</p><p>“I did,” He nodded. “I couldn’t stand knowing I probably lost y—<em>it.</em>”</p><p>Hermione took a brief notice of his correction, and found herself blushing. She was glad to be back with him, but more than anything, she felt they needed to talk this time. About everything. She was ready, this time. She wanted these answers, but she was all too timid in bringing this up to him.</p><p>“I didn’t expect to see you today.” She spoke, changing the subject in hopes that she could hold in her delight.</p><p>“I’m sure you didn’t quite expect to get bombarded by journalists and press, either,” He smirked at her. After his statement, the duo heard the sounds of people outside his office rushing by. Hermione and Draco stood completely still and in perfect silence as to not give away their location, and once the reporters were convinced that they weren’t in his office, they moved along. “I’ll have to speak to Kingsley about this.”</p><p>“About the article?”</p><p>“No,” Draco shook his head. “The article already came out. I’ll have to tell Kingsley that they’re being inappropriate to Ministry guests.”</p><p>Hermione swallowed from his explanation and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him cheekily. She wanted to tell him that she had just gotten hired at the Ministry right before she were nearly tackled by the press, but felt that would be a story once she officially secured the job title.</p><p>“Maybe we should catch up sometime?” Hermione offered, her voice low and in a question more than anything. Draco, who was surprised at her suggestion, glanced at his wall clock and grinned softly.</p><p>“I have about ten more minutes left for lunch if you want to join me.” Draco spoke, walking to his desk and sitting down, hoping that she’d take the seat in front of him. But she didn’t, all she could do was stand in her same spot, unsure what the right answer was for this moment.</p><p>“I was thinking maybe more privately,” Hermione shifted. “When you aren’t on a time crunch.”</p><p>Draco thought briefly and looked back at the witch.</p><p>“Are you doing anything for New Year’s Eve,” He perked up. “I was going to spend it with Blaise and Pansy but I wouldn’t want to intrude on them. I can only tolerate those two together for a short amount of time, anyways.”</p><p>“You mean spend it just the two of us?”</p><p>“Ideally, yeah.” He nodded. His words were so comfortable and relaxed, especially in his offer. “You can come over to my flat and we can have dinner or something.” Hermione studied Draco’s face to see if there was anything concealed behind his asks. She wondered why she was so nervous all of a sudden. She had spent time freely with Draco when they were just friends. But it was different now, knowing how she felt for him and how he possibly felt for her. The first thing that came to her mind after this was that he was asking her out on a date. But besides all that, she wondered if it were too soon for them to be alone together after all that had happened.</p><p>“Maybe we can meet sometime after the new year,” Hermione asked, trying to shield her insecurity. “At the bookshop maybe.”</p><p>Draco rose from his seat, a knowing smile plastered on his face as he approached her. From the sight of him growing closer, Hermione could feel all inhibitions trying desperately to leave her, but they didn’t. She stood strong, and remained respectful to it all though her heart ached with each step he took towards her.</p><p>“I can tell you’re nervous. And that’s alright,” Draco assured her. He gently grabbed her hand in his and caressed the back of it, an action he had done before that once saddened her was now her main source of comfort. “We can wait until we got back to that friendship we had before.”</p><p>“Thank you,” She spoke, letting go of his hand as she then unlocked the door and stood in his doorway, checking the halls for any press. When seeing that it were clear, she turned back around to Draco who was sitting on his desk now, smirking at her from where he sat. “For everything.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After leaving the Ministry and having had the time to digest everything that had just happened, Hermione found herself in Hogsmeade later that day, by herself and strolling along the shops. It was the one place she had visited freely to take her time away from the powerful camera shutters and nosy journalists. In fact, it almost felt like things had gone back to normal, even though they were everything but. Though, in her walk, she started to consider Draco’s offer. He didn’t say it was a date, though not many people openly allude it as being such. To her, the idea of being alone with him frightened her, albeit in a good way. She wanted to see him again, and though their conversation were brief and awkward, she enjoyed it nonetheless. Just hearing his voice, having him come to her aide, it was all so perfect to her for their first encounter.</p><p>Walking through the cold, snowy streets, Hermione could hear muffled, familiar voices behind her, all talking over each other and all cheerful in tone. Her heart began to sink a bit at the sound of a familiar laugh coming from a woman nearby, and could only decipher it as being none other than Ginny’s voice. Hermione contemplated what she would do if she were to turn around and be face-to-face with her friends that she had lost some touch with, and felt a timidity embrace her much closer than she would’ve liked. But, when hearing them laugh even more, she could feel her heart breaking at the absence of being in the loop.</p><p>Hermione steadied herself and stopped walking, turning around and seeing Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Padma Patil. At the sight, Hermione couldn’t tell what hit her first; the fact that they were out and hadn’t invited her, or the fact that this was the first time she was seeing Padma in ages. She had started to feel silly for revealing herself to them, but knew it was too late to pretend she hadn’t seen them. She was already standing there, her eyes peering at the cheery group. It was very recently that she was just in their friend group, and to feel as though she had been replaced wasn’t a good feeling. She didn’t appreciate feeling as though she was being punished for her decision in breaking up with Ron.</p><p>As the group settled their eyes on her, coming to an abrupt stop in their demeanor, Hermione watched as Ginny and Harry came forward easily, whilst Ron and Padma lingered behind a bit, unsure how to approach the witch.</p><p>“Hey,” Harry spoke, hugging his friend softly. Hermione was sure that she would cry from the embrace. She didn’t want to, though. She knew that it was easier for Harry to be caught up with Ron more because he was with Ginny, but she also was angry. He knew that she was alone for Christmas, and neither of them even bothered to reach out to her about the articles to see if she were okay. In the embrace, she struggled to look back at Ron who was trying to look preoccupied with a random, rundown building nearby. Hermione knew this to be his way of avoiding eye contact with her; a method he used far too often.</p><p>They broke the hug and soon, it was Ginny’s turn to welcome Hermione in an embrace with such warm ness that threw the witch completely off guard. Hermione thought that Ginny would be the first person to hate her because of the article, but it just didn’t seem that way now.</p><p>“Are you alright? How was your Christmas?” Ginny’s voice was low and motherly, despite Hermione being older than her. She was concerned, clearly trying to see if Hermione was truly alright, which gave her a lot less room to lie and say that she was.</p><p>“I’m okay,” Hermione nodded, looking at the couple. She hadn’t gotten the chance to fully immerse herself in the joys of their own upcoming nuptials, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try just this last time around, considering she would soon take on a new career. “My Christmas was fine. Quiet, but fine. Everything alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ginny looked at Harry who nodded in agreement. “Everything’s been okay. Just sort of wedding planning, is all.”</p><p>Hermione focused on the young woman as a sourness crept in the back of her throat. She was working on wedding planning? Without her?</p><p>“I thought I was going to help you out.” Hermione frowned, looking back and forth at the couple.</p><p>“Honestly, Hermione, so much has been going on for you. We just figured that you would be better off taking it easy for now.”</p><p>Hermione took a few steps away from Ginny and Harry as she looked at them both. She didn’t want this to be the nail in the coffin for their friendship. As a matter of fact, she hated the thought. She knew that Ron might have needed time but what about her? He had his friends and sister to support him while she was just left alone in a big, empty apartment by herself.</p><p>From where she stood, she watched as Padma waved ‘bye’ to Ron and walked in the opposite direction. He was standing there, still not giving in to Hermione’s glare, avoiding it at all costs as he kept his distance. Hermione could feel all the anger boiling inside of her at the action, and looked at all three of them with equal disappointment. She debated quickly on if it were worth talking about, or if she should even bring it up, but she knew that at some point it was going to come out.</p><p>“Do you plan on not talking to me forever?” Hermione called out to Ron. The young man, still not looking at her, clenched his jaw from the sound of her voice.</p><p>“There’s nothing to talk about Hermione.” Ron pushed out quickly, as though the words would eat him alive if he even tried to stall any longer than he intended.</p><p>“I know you probably hate me because of that article but I’m hurting from it, too.”</p><p>“How can you hurt from something that you caused?” Ron called out, inching closer to her. Ginny and Harry moved out of the crossfires between the former couple, seeing Ron rising with anger and Hermione’s face growing with hurt. “And then I have to go to work and hear from my coworkers that Malfoy saved you from the press and photographers. And then on top of that, I have to explain that we’re not together anymore. To them. To mum. To dad. To everyone.”</p><p>“At least you have people to support you,” Hermione’s voice began to crack as tears formed in her eyes. “And contrary to your belief and the rest of the world’s, I never once betrayed you, Ronald. Never. And because of an article that was misconstrued, I lost out on my business and my professionalism as a whole. I have to start from the bottom up because I have no one,” The cold air was strenuous on her throat as she shouted from how upset she was. “Not one of you came to see if I were alright. It’s like I didn’t matter.”</p><p>Hermione tried not to look at either of them, and regretted how silent it got between them all just from her words. She wished she weren’t there with either of them, as much as she needed them. Surely this was tough on Ron, but it was tough on her, too. And while she didn’t want to be comforted by him in the way he used to, she just wanted to feel like she were still a human being with emotions and feelings.</p><p>When realizing she wouldn’t get a response from either of them, Hermione turned away and walked in the direction she was originally going. She wiped away her tears with a gloved hand, and regretted the tenderness of her eyes from some debris getting stuck. Her eyes watered harder and she couldn’t tell if it were from her own tears, or the damned eyelash that had entered it. Though, as Hermione stood there and rubbed her eyes clear, She batted them open and watched as Ron stood before her, big and bold and teary-eyed.  Hermione was nearly shocked at the sight before her, and tried her best to remain cold and hardened through her tears.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Ron whispered, his lips quivering to avoid himself from properly crying. He threw his arms around her sloppily and held her tight, the first time she and Ron had any sort of physical touch since before they broke up. It was quite different to Hermione, who found the gesture odd but also touching. She knew that while she didn’t want to continue the relationship with Ron considering her feelings for Draco, she did still want to be civil, at the very least. Perhaps even friends, if the universe allowed it.So, she hugged him back, and was comforted by the other hugs that came with her as well from both Ginny and Harry. Though she was upset, more than anything she knew that she couldn’t go on without her friends. She needed them. Incredibly.</p><p> </p><p>As Hermione arrived home, settling in with the warmth of her flat and the gracious company of dear old Crookshanks, Hermione plopped herself down onto the couch and reveled in the silence. Her home, which was once so lonesome to her, was now a bit more bearable to her, now that she had made her peace with her friends and had finally seen Draco.</p><p>Her heart fluttered at the memory of him, feeling herself flushed at the idea of spending the holiday with him. She wanted to. God did she want to. But she feared deeply that her presence would halt his healing from his breakup. Still, Hermione figured that if he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t have asked. At all. She sucked up her pride and got up from her cozy spot on the couch and headed to her room. Her owl was there, dutifully sitting in his cage and focused on her once she entered. Crookshanks appeared as well, hopping on her bed and perching himself on her pillows as she sat on her desk.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                                                            <em>Draco,</em></p><p>
  <em>                                                            I’ll be there.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>NEW YEARS EVE</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The lift rose to a careful stop, alerting Hermione that she had reached her choice. As the gates opened, allowing her to exit, she stood in shock at what she saw. The building that Draco lived in was undoubtedly fancy, alarming Hermione far more than she thought it would. There were mirrors that lined his hallway before entering his flat. He was the only inhabitant of floor 13, considering that the higher up flats were larger in size, opting for ample space. Hermione couldn’t explain it, but she had a feeling that if just his halls were this grand, she could only imagine the way his flat looked.</p><p>Feeling that her heart would beat out of her chest, Hermione stole the opportunity to check her appearance in one of the mirrors in his halls. She secretly hoped she didn’t look too “done up” for a night in with just the two of them. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and she wore a black dress, which clung to her body, accentuating every dip and curve of her slender figure. She had makeup on, though not too much, for fear that she would eat it all off anyways during dinner. But in the midst of her last-minute check, Hermione stopped herself.</p><p><em>We’re just friends. </em>Except, it didn’t feel that way. She felt that she were getting dressed for a date with Draco, instead of a casual catch up.</p><p>From where she stood, Hermione jumped up straight at the sound of a door opening nearby, and let her eyes rest on Draco. He was poking his head out of his door, smirking at her before revealing more of himself in the doorway.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>Hermione tried to force away the redness that she felt in her cheeks and smiled at him.</p><p>“Nothing, nothing,” She smiled, shaking her head at his question. He was dressed in black, as well. A classic feat for today’s festivities, of course. His top collar was open, familiar to how he liked it, and he was staring at her, now.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to come inside?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Between a few tedious conversations and small talk, Hermione found herself grateful that the semantics were over, and they were nearing the end of their bottle of wine. She had initially found it a bit embarrassing how comfortable she was immediately after the most awkward pieces of their conversations were over and done with. And now, surprisingly, she didn’t find much shame in how she was with Draco. They were both sitting on his couch, wine glasses in their hands, and her legs were resting across his. They had even tried to outdo each other in the whole ‘my breakup was worse than yours’ bit, and while it was fun, neither of them won in the end. If anything, Hermione was just glad to be back in his company, despite how nervous she still was. But perhaps that nervousness came from the fact that she had been here this whole time, and they hadn’t even touched on the important stuff.</p><p>Hermione downed the rest of her glass and looked at Draco who was grinning at her, clearly impressed with her thirst.</p><p>“Do you want more?” he asked, momentarily reaching for the wine bottle though Hermione stopped him with a small grab of his hand.</p><p>“No, no, I’m alright,” She assured him with a gentle smile. She looked down at how their hands were resting so naturally within the other’s, and looked back at him, a sort of seriousness growing on her face. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Draco nodded. “Are you? Do you need to eat something?”</p><p>Hermione felt bad that she hadn’t even touched the dinner that Draco made for them that night, but he insisted that maybe a few drinks could loosen them up before they actually got into the thick of their difficult conversations.</p><p>“I meant with the whole wedding situation. The article. All of it.”</p><p>Draco took a final swig of his wine and actually pondered on her question. This whole time, they were just talking so fluidly, and for a brief moment Draco had forgotten all dread that he had endured the past couple of days. It was good to forget for a little while.</p><p>“Well, it kind of just came out one day at dinner time. I told her I couldn’t marry her. And she didn’t really take it how I expected. She kind of didn’t believe me at first, and that made it harder.”</p><p>Hermione blinked at the explanation and glanced back at the dinner table, assuming uncomfortably that she had been sitting in the same atmosphere at the scene of the crime.</p><p>“Not here, though. In my old flat. I moved out afterwards. I didn’t really have a choice, honestly. She didn’t want to leave and I wasn’t going to make her.” He started.</p><p>“That was pretty decent of you.” Hermione commended, though Draco shrugged slightly before questioning her next.</p><p>“How did you do it with Ron,” He started, then back tracked. “The break-up, of course.”</p><p>Hermione had started to laugh a bit and then focused on her answer.</p><p>“It was brief. He was upset, of course, but then recently we reconnected and it was…nice.”</p><p>Draco shifted a bit in his seat and placed a hand on her bare legs, as though trying to remind her that he were here in case she got lost in her memory.</p><p>“Reconnected?”</p><p>“As friends.” Hermione explained, and relaxed once seeing Draco do so as well. It was fun seeing him in this way, though they were still careful around each other. But regardless of both of their reservations, there was still something lingering in between them. Something unspoken that could only be pinpointed by the way her eyes twinkled when looking at him and how his heart raced at the sight of the witch and how close they sat.</p><p>“Draco, that night in the elevator,” Hermione licked her lips as though trying to fully get the thought out with the help of moistened lips. “What were you thinking that ended up confusing you?”</p><p>“I was mostly upset about where the wedding was going at first. But then I realized more and more time that I spent with you, I realized that I didn’t want to get married without…forget it. It’s ridiculous.” Draco turned his head away and faced his lengthy windows that shown the night sky. But, he was pulled from his distractions as Hermione gently turned his face to her. He felt every hair on the back of his neck stand up from the action, and he looked from her eyes to her lips. It was then that he was pushed back into that memory from Halloween. A memory that seemed so long ago but still so recent to him in this moment.</p><p>“Tell me.” She whispered.</p><p>Draco opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by the sound of fireworks going off outside of his window. He gently removed her legs from his lap and grabbed her hand, guiding her quickly to the window so they could watch.</p><p>Standing there, Hermione saw the beautiful hues and colors illuminating the sky. Outside were witches and wizards all screaming ‘Happy New Year’ to one another and even more simply, to all who would listen. In this moment, Hermione turned her attention to Draco who was standing there, watching it all in awe. And though the view was quite beautiful, Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of her more satisfying sight.</p><p>“Happy New Year, Draco.” She whispered to him. The tall wizard turned to her, a small smile on his face at the sight of her. Their eyes locked, the fireworks still erupting outside the flat. Draco, enchanted by the witch beside him, turned his attention completely to her. His hands gently touched her hands, keeping them still for just a moment before placing them on her waist, bringing her closer to him. Hermione sucked in a small breath at the action, and rested her hand gently on his chest. His heart was beating fast, but not nearly as fast as her own, and this she was certain of.</p><p>Draco leaned down to her, his face the closest it has ever been. Just when the witch was so certain that he would kiss her, he stopped, and allowed a small grin to cross his face, knowingly teasing her.</p><p>“Happy New Year.” He whispered onto her lips, before meeting them with his own as Hermione closed her eyes. The kiss, both so soft and tender, was everything Hermione had wanted, needed, dreamt of. His lips were still tainted with the wine they drank, but Hermione didn’t mind. It made it more delicious for her. The witch, clearly lifted from her soaring heart grew disappointed once feeling Draco pull away gently.</p><p>He was staring at her, though still close, as if straying too far would make her disappear right before his eyes. Hermione, on the other hand, was still inherently curious about what Draco stopped himself from saying just minutes ago.</p><p>“You know,” She started, her voice low but not yet a whisper. “You still haven’t told me what you didn’t want to get married without.”</p><p>Draco analyzed her face, knowing he had it all in front of her right then and there, but felt that words would be useless for this exact explanation.</p><p>“It’s best if I show you.” At his words, Hermione felt all need to remain in control drift away. She leap towards him, throwing her arms around him as she pulled him into her, their lips crashing messily and passionately onto each other. Their tongues danced with one another’s, a low, hungry growl escaping from Draco that traveled into her mouth, making her moan in return. At this, Hermione could feel tears coming to her eyes as she kissed him. This man, this infuriatingly attractive man that had tormented her life in such a way was now the main source of pleasure that she wanted to receive. Hermione was sure her heart would pound out of her chest from the kiss, and let out a small yelp once Draco picked her up, holding her against the wall. And as though the universe were applauding their efforts, the fireworks outside erupted faster than imaginable, loud and quick.</p><p>From the position that Draco had pinned her in, Hermione felt her dress ride up from the stretchy material, making it completely known to her that the bottom half of her was now exposed. She was grateful now that she had picked her thong to wear tonight to avoid unwanted panty-lines. Still, the chill from the window crept on her skin and clashed with the fire that Draco caused with each grab of her thigh and suck of her tongue through their kiss.</p><p>Hermione found leverage among Draco’s hair as she grasped it tightly, her hands moving from each part of him that she could touch with ease, and groaned as Draco stopped the kiss once again, his eyes saying all that she needed to know about where their night would end.</p><p>“Do you want to go further?”  </p><p>Hermione grinned a bit, appreciating that he wanted to make sure she was okay with it before actually doing it, and nodded. A small “Yes” escaped the witch as she then continued kissing him, trying to keep herself from getting dizzy as he moved through the flat with her eyes still closed. Soon, Hermione could feel herself lifted from Draco’s hold and onto his large bed. She hadn’t had much time to get a full idea of what his bedroom looked like, but she figured she could see it in the morning after they finished tonight.</p><p>Hermione’s opened as she saw Draco standing over her, removing his shoes and his shirt, eyeing her diligently with the same hunger she felt through their kiss. The act of him undressing, though completely sexy, made her feel like she needed to help undress herself. She was already halfway there, anyways considering the bottom half of her was still visible to his eyes. Hermione shifted a bit and tried to undress herself, but was stopped by Draco as he gently slapped her hand away.</p><p>“No, let me.” He spoke, pulling her back to a stand-up position and turning her around and slowly unzipping her dress, his tongue trailing down from her nape to the middle of her back, reaching her sweet spot and sending a mix of chills and grins to the girl.</p><p>Hermione stepped out of her dress and felt Draco’s hands land on her waist once again, his fingers toying with the lines of her thong that rested on her hips, and soon pulling them down, too. His willingness to do all of it himself made it clear to the witch that he had waited quite a while for this moment. Draco turned the girl around, giving a few more kisses to her as they both stood in the room, bare in all sense of the word, before being laid back down on the bed. Hermione hitched a quick breath when feeling Draco spread apart her legs as he lowered his face down, leaving gentle kisses on her abdomen.</p><p>The sensation, so teasingly delicate nearly infuriated her. She wanted it. She wanted all of it, and he was taking his time, to both her delight and impatience. But she loved it.</p><p>Draco’s kissed tailed lower to her pelvis, kissing the top of it and then moving to her clit, circling it slowly with his tongue. Hermione arched her back from his mouth and grabbed hold of his hair, her new favorite thing to have in her hands, especially as he ate. Draco switched his style, now sucking gently on her clit and letting two fingers slide inside of her with ease from her wetness.</p><p>Hermione’s toes curled tightly from this, as her eyes opened and stared at the white ceiling above her. She smiled from the feeling and bit her lower lip, loving how deep his digits went, massaging her G-spot. Hermione was sure she would cum from his fingers alone, and right when she was about to reach her peak, he stopped, leaving the witch shaking from pleasure.</p><p>A sort of mischievous grin came to the wizard’s face at her response as he moved completely on top of her now, bending down to gently suck on her nipples. Hermione closed her eyes, her back arching again from his incredibly skilled mouth, but then braced herself once he stopped. Draco made sure to fixate on her face as he wedged himself in between her legs. He watched her face with complete curiosity as he slid inside of her. Though Draco wanted to see her face from him entering, he found himself overcome with pleasure at the fit.</p><p>Draco leaned down on top of her, their foreheads touching amongst other parts of their bodies and Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him in deeper. Draco steadied himself, opening his eyes to look at the woman he had held in his heart for so long, unknowingly. He reached up to her face, caressing her cheek as she moaned from his thrusts, admiring her.</p><p>“You’re so…so beautiful.” Draco managed to let escape him in between his motion and didn’t worry that Hermione hadn’t responded. He was just glad that she was here, and that she was enjoying herself. He kissed her again as he continued to rock, causing Hermione to claw at his back gently, exciting Draco from her touch.</p><p>Draco could feel himself getting closer with each thrust, and felt it harder to keep up the tempo he was originally on. He looked at Hermione whose cheeks were flushed and eyes tight.</p><p>“I’m cumming.” She whispered, bringing her face into Draco’s chest and then falling back on the bed as she reached her orgasm. Draco, feeling the pulsations from within her, tried backing out of Hermione, though she tightened her hold on him with her legs.</p><p>“Cum inside me.” She whispered in what felt, more or less, like a beg to Draco. “Please, cum inside me.”</p><p>Draco could feel himself releasing from her request and all the sensations that he felt in that moment, and allowed himself to release right in between her legs, deep inside of her like she asked, just like she wanted.</p><p>The young man removed himself from ontop of her with weak, shaky legs and collapsed besides the breathless Hermione.</p><p>The two stared at the ceiling for a moment, neither of them talking as the silence wavered in on the both of them. Hermione would never outwardly admit it just yet, but the sound of him breathing was more enjoyable to her right now than any other word that could possibly be uttered from him in that moment.</p><p>Hermione turned to Draco, a gentle hand resting on his chest just as she had done earlier when they had first started kissing. The equally breathless man rested his hand on top of hers, and turned to face her. There was something in her keen features with the blush that crossed her faced that made Draco’s heart skip a beat. He had realized it earlier from when he danced with her in the elevator that she was possibly someone that he wanted in his life seriously. But here, seeing her in this raw beauty with nothing but the moonlight illuminating her, he knew entirely. There wasn’t a shadow of a doubt that could lead him away from this realization.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--I'm posting super late, but I hoped I made up for it by posting an 8k chapter, haha. So, things got kind of heated between our fave ship, but it's definitely sailing. I do apologize if some of my word choices are a bit too mature for some viewer's tastes, but I did add the warning at the top for that reason! Either way, It's always a pleasure writing for you all. I'm feeling better, but I do need some extended time to post while I get back to 100%. Thank you thank you, darlings, as always. Love you lots. NEXT UPDATE: 12/21--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco deals with the aftermath of New Year's Eve and the hard to manage, unexpected visits he's having with his parents.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>JANUARY</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
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</p><p> </p><p>The sunlight beaming into Draco’s windows that morning managed quite well to wake him up even if he weren’t quite ready to rise. He was unbelievably relaxed, in a way that hadn’t yet greeted him in months. He loved quiet, peaceful mornings, and above all else, he loved the feeling of stealing a few last bits of warmth under the covers before he was forced to seize the day. So, the young man laid there, in the nude, and impeccably sore for a moment with his eyes closed. He drew in a deep breath, not ready to meet the world just yet, and paused when feeling movement coming from just beside him. A toothy grin appeared on his face as he remembered last night and managed to pry his eyes open to the best of their ability to just make sure that he hadn’t dreamt it all.</p><p>And to his relief, he hadn’t.</p><p>There, beside him, messy curls gracing her face was Hermione. It dawned on Draco that this was the first time he had ever seen her sleeping, and boy was she incredibly beautiful as she did. He felt grateful for being able to have her here, sharing his bed, despite the body aches and headache that accompanied their dinner choice— wine.</p><p>Draco placed a hand on Hermione’s arm, seeing her scar laying there so out in the open. He didn’t know what it was, considering it wasn’t necessarily shame nor reluctance to see the scar, but more or less ‘awe’, as strange as it sounds. He hated the scar that eventually tormented his skin from the inside out, expelling all evidence of the Dark Lord in its fade, but hers was just there, free for him to see, a harsh reminder of the world. But yet, both war scars were unfortunate reminders of things that neither of them were.</p><p>Hermione flinched a bit in her sleep from his touch, which drew Draco in nearer, though carefully. The man hesitated for a moment, unsure how affectionate he should be with her, but felt that a simple hold wouldn’t be so bad for such an early morning. His eyes glanced over to the clock on his wall. 8:23. Fuck, it was early. But the feel of her cool skin was enough to wake him up some.</p><p>From his touch came a moan far different from the ones she let out the night before, and she shifted in the bed to face him, fully. She nestled her face further into his chest and mumbled something inaudible to the entranced man who merely stroked her hair in their closeness.</p><p>“Good morning,” She eventually mumbled tiredly, causing Draco to grin.</p><p>“Good morning,” he returned. “Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“We hardly slept.” Hermione teased against his chest.</p><p>Draco loved this. The closeness, the need to keep her close. All of it thrilled him entirely more than he could have imagined. For the first time, his soul was at rest fully, and it was all from her presence. In the silence as they lay together, Draco heard a growl come from Hermione’s stomach and snickered from the sound.</p><p>“<em>Now</em> you’re hungry?” He asked, referencing their uneaten dinner that he was sure was still sitting on the kitchen table.</p><p>“Only a little,” She smirked, slowly opening her big brown eyes and looking up at him. “What’s on the menu?”</p><p>Draco jumped at the touch of her hands reaching down to his abdomen, and then lower and lower. He sighed in pleasure at the feeling, but knew that right now, food took priority over anything. If they were to pick back up from last night’s events, they needed something in their system. He gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it.</p><p>“Breakfast first, yeah?” He asked, generating a satisfied grin from Hermione as she stirred in the covers. Draco leapt out of bed and braced the cold bravely, reaching for a pair of boxers in his drawers. He turned around, seeing Hermione staring at him with sheer satisfaction and shrugged his shoulder as a blush crossed him. “Like what you see, or something?”</p><p>“It’s the daylight, that’s all.” She managed from her place in the bed. Draco stood for a moment, staring back at the messy haired witch. He intended for them to catch up entirely, but things took a quick turn last night. And while he was fully set on getting a better understanding of where things would go with them, he figured that would be an appropriate topic over breakfast, if the situation called for it.</p><p>So, without another word, he left his bedroom with a grab of his wand and walked down his hall with a little more pep in his step than usual. He was a different man. A man with an attitude that permitted him to be free, regardless of how others felt. He stepped past the living room and made his way to the kitchen, waving his wand as last night’s food was tossed into the bin and began washing itself in the sink. Draco sighed for a moment and opened his fridge, looking into his fridge, soon realizing he didn’t know simple things about her, like what she enjoyed for breakfast.</p><p>“Is an omelet alright?” He called out.</p><p>“None for me, dear.” A familiar voice responded softly, startling him. Draco jumped from the sound and turned, seeing his mother standing there. She was dressed like she had been outside, a small dusting of snow on her coat as she stood there, unimpressed with how scantily clad he was. And he had to admit, he was embarrassed with it, as well. But the most surprising thing of all was that she was in his flat.</p><p>“Mum,” He spoke, trying to steady his racing heart. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>Narcissa’s mouth was pressed into a straight line as she focused on her son. She stared at him with an incredibly serious face and looked around at the big flat that he had newly resided in.</p><p>“I heard from Astoria that you moved. I wanted to see the place.” She spoke, walking around the front of the flat a bit. She was admiring the paintings on his wall, and the hanging decorations from New Years that he tried to impress Hermione with. He wanted to ask how she got his address, having told neither of them where he was now residing, but figured that the more important topic he wanted to address was right on the tip of his tongue.</p><p>“You know, you could’ve sent an owl before hand to let me know.” Draco tried his best not to sound annoyed, though he was. He had specific directions about who could come to his flat. He had a list that he had kept downstairs with the bellhop, but apparently it didn’t stop Narcissa from finding her way around certain rules to get upstairs.</p><p>“I did. I sent one last night after I found out the news,” She started, her words clearly confusing Draco. She then eyed her son carefully. There were strange marks on his body, scratches that were on his back. Temporary traces that would remind him of the night before, and would leave Narcissa disgusted with knowing the source. “Clearly you were too busy to notice.”</p><p>Draco’s eyes darted to the cups and he smiled sheepishly.</p><p>“I just had some guests over.”</p><p>“Evidently a <em>special</em> guest.” Narcissa corrected as she then sat on the arm of his sofa.</p><p>Draco looked back at the glasses and waved his wand, summoning a robe from his bedroom. He prayed silently that Hermione wouldn’t step out into the living room but figured she had probably drifted back to sleep temporarily. Regardless, he tried to shake off his mother’s disapproving looks as he wrapped himself up. Then, it dawned on him.</p><p>“You said you had found out some news?” Draco asked, trying to change the subject and bring her back to her purpose of coming to his flat.</p><p>Narcissa sighed and looked down at her wedding ring, turning it nervously and then looked back up at Draco. Her eyes were different, this time, hinted with traces of melancholy and stress.</p><p>“Your father is in trouble with the Ministry,” She started. “Yesterday was supposed to be the end of our probation, but upon a wand check, they found out that he had Stupefied you a few days ago. What made it worse was that he didn’t even make the effort to bring you back to consciousness. <em>I</em> did.”</p><p>“That was all <em>his</em> doing,” Draco snarled, his voice low and not loud enough to startle Hermione if she were awake. “I don’t know where I tie in with any of this.”</p><p>“You tried to disarm him, Draco.” Narcissa whispered back angrily. “You started it.”</p><p>“But he didn’t have to Stupefy me. He left me there. Unconscious. If it weren’t for you, I’m almost certain he wouldn’t have brought me back.”</p><p>“You don’t know that.” Narcissa spoke, her eyes glistening with tears.</p><p>“But I do,” Draco frowned. “You heard him. He doesn’t want to know who I am, anymore. It’s pointless trying to get through to him.”</p><p>Narcissa was quiet for a moment while she looked at him, trying to find any trace of the obedient son that she once knew, but couldn’t find him. There was something completely different about him, and Narcissa didn’t understand it, nor did she like it.</p><p>“Draco, your father is being held in the Ministry. They won’t let him come home until a statement is received by you that the charm wasn’t done with ill-intent. And even then, he may have to stand trial.”</p><p>There was something about the way Narcissa was pleading with him that set him back a bit. He could feel the confidence in his decisions slowly slipping away from him, and he hated it so. With just one look, one simple, subtle beg, and Draco could feel himself pushed back from the vitality he had once standing up for himself against his father and defending Hermione in her absence. And then the thought of his father? Well, that struck a nerve in an entirely different way. It was like he was sixteen again, with his father’s actions being the root cause of chaos, and he would have to save the family once and for all. But what if he didn’t want to? What if he knew that saving his father meant that he would fall victim into his cold-hearted nature? What if things with Hermione did progress and his family popped into his flat randomly and saw them? He knew nothing good come out of this, but he was stuck. Stuck reeling with the idea that he was responsible for his father’s demise. All because he raised his wand. And so, a dark cloud loomed over the young man’s head. His entire demeanor changed at the sound of this. His father’s fate rested in his hands, just like before.</p><p>“Can I get back to you on this?” The words came from his mouth as though he were in pain by suggesting he take the time to mull things over. Narcissa, on the other hand, was visibly upset at his reluctance. The woman stood up, the heels of her shoes clacking against his tiles. She didn’t intend to intimidate her child, though she did. If anything, she was more intimidated by this changed man before her.</p><p>“You need to take time out to think about helping your own flesh and blood,” She asked. The question stirred Draco wrong for nothing other than the fact that it was the truth, and with that, he remained silent. Narcissa’s face grew plain from his lack of answer and she took a step closer to the living room, giving it one last sound look before facing Draco. “Your father has sacrificed so much for the greater good. For your future and the future of the Malfoy’s to come after you. And you spit in his face when he needs you most, even with his attempts on leading the family to its greatness,” Narcissa looked down at the two wine glasses from last night, still with the remnants of wine in the bottom, and picked it up, seeing the faint dark red lipstick Hermione had worn last night just at the ring around the cup. Her hand trembled at the sight, placing it down harshly and then turning away from her son. “You’ve given me your answer, then. I don’t want to further disturb you when you have a guest over.”</p><p>Draco watched as his mother disapparated right before his eyes, leaving him in tremendous shock and suffering. He wanted to scream and finally be freed from the shackles of his family’s grip. He didn’t care much for his father, considering everything they endured with him “leading the family to its greatness”, or lack thereof. But he didn’t want to see his mother upset because of what he didn’t want to do.</p><p>Pondering a decision, Draco made his way to his couch and sat down, his mind entirely too crowded to focus on breakfast at this point. He was stunned in the middle of his thinking once Hermione came walking into the living room. She was wearing her dress from yesterday, and her face was freshly washed and free of makeup. But once she saw him, she looked as though she had seen a ghost.</p><p>“Draco, what’s wrong?” She asked, immediately appearing at his side. Draco sighed a bit and looked at Hermione. He didn’t know what to say to her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think that she was bothersome or that she couldn’t come over anymore for fear that his mother would pop in unexpectedly, which she already did. So he tried to smile, pressing his hand to his empty, increasingly hungry stomach.</p><p>“I’m fine. I’m just…I felt really nauseous all of a sudden. My appetite just vanished.” He lied.</p><p>“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asked, her focus entirely on him. He blushed at how attentive she was and figured that if she ever chose to leave her business behind, she would make a great Healer at St. Mungos, but let that thought go so he could appreciate how much she cared.</p><p>“I think I might need to lay down. Maybe get rid of the alcohol if it needs to come back up.” Draco hated the fact that he was lying to her, but he couldn’t figure out how to tell her about the news he just received. So, he thought it would just be best to keep that under wraps for now.</p><p>“I can stay if you’d like.” Hermione suggested.</p><p>“I wouldn’t want you to see me like this. Plus, I might just fall asleep,” He spoke. Draco didn’t want it to sound like he was throwing every excuse possible at Hermione, but he needed some time to himself afterwards. He hated the idea of seeing her leave, but he couldn’t risk it anymore, in case Narcissa came back.</p><p>“Alright.” Hermione spoke quietly, and stood up from her place next to him on the couch. Draco watched Hermione give a small smile to him, though there was a disappointment that lurked beneath it, and understandably so. Just this morning, he was upbeat and excited to take on anything thrown his way, and then in just minutes, things changed. Right when Hermione had walked to the front door to grab her coat off the rack, Draco couldn’t help but call out to her.</p><p>“I’m—I’m going to Hogwarts sometime next week if you’d like to come with me. I was going to inquire about the open Potions professor position. I could use someone’s brilliance to calm my nerves.”</p><p>Small butterflies lit around Draco’s belly once seeing her face light up. This time, her smile was genuine. She walked over and gave Draco a brief kiss on the forehead.</p><p>“I’d love to,” She beamed, and within moments she was out of his front door. With Hermione gone, his flat seemed far less lively and upbeat. It was now quiet, desolate, and somehow devoid of life despite himself still remaining. He wished he hadn’t known any details about his father, and he wished terribly that it had never happened. All he wanted was to be happy, and just when a brief moment of that came to surface, it was stripped from him so unfairly. For a moment, Draco wondered if this was his karma for calling off his wedding so close to it’s date. He even wondered if this was his karma for being intimate with Hermione on the day he was originally supposed to marry Astoria. But regardless of it all, forgetting the details of his father briefly and the weight that would eventually crash down on him, Draco laid on his couch and relished in the fact that he finally had figured out just what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A few days after Draco had learned of his father’s situation, he no longer felt that it would do him any good to ignore the problem. He wanted this to be over with as quick as it had started, and figured that the only way to get through this was to go see the one person he dreaded making eye contact with right now. He hadn’t even told his mother about his plan to go see his father. He just went on a whim, actually. The same way Narcissa barged in on him so unexpectedly, he intended to do so with Lucius. Parts of him ached at the idea that he was going to see him after not having word from him in so long. He had mulled over the decision for so long that he thought it was just pointless. But he was there, in the same building he worked in. Walking around with his head held high as he assisted Kingsley wouldn’t look good on his part anyways, even though he desperately wanted to avoid this situation.</p><p>Draco walked into the Auror’s office that morning with the intention of having control. He needed all that he could in order to deal with his father. He unfortunately knew how to push his buttons, now, especially with the rumors of him and Hermione being strongly associated. Still, he prayed he didn’t see Weasley of all people on his return to this specific department.</p><p>The receptionist, very ditsy and disheveled locked eyes with Draco upon entry and turned pale at the sight. The witch tried her best to plaster her customer service face onto him, but grew nervous when realizing it wasn’t sticking.</p><p>“G-good morning, Mr. Malfoy. What brings you in t-today?”</p><p>Draco cleared his throat and looked around, not really wanting to deal with her, but hoping to see anyone who would be able to better assist him.</p><p>“I’m looking for my father. Lucius Malfoy.”</p><p>“Oh, y-yes, sir. H-he’s with one of the head Auror’s at the moment but I’ll t-tell them you’re here when they get the chance.”</p><p>Draco clenched his fists from the frustration brewing within him. He didn’t want to speak to someone later. He wanted them now, when he had the chance and the patience. Deeply, Draco feared that if the time drew on for when he could see his father, that he’d change his mind and put this off even longer.</p><p>“I don’t have the time to come back. I want to speak with him, now.” The witch fiddled around a bit, desperately knocking over papers and other items that came crashing to the floors around her desk. Draco stepped aside a bit and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Bloody hell, what are you looking for?”</p><p>“My wand, sir!” She called out from under her desk now as she searched. Draco waited impatiently and began eyeing the door nearby. The ability to have a quick bite before work seemed pleasant the more he waited. But he stopped when hearing footsteps behind him and a familiar voice.</p><p>“Don’t worry, Francis. It’s quite alright,” Draco turned to face the wizard who spoke, and paused when seeing Harry standing nearby, his wand out and in his hand. He looked focused as he peered at Draco, though not menacing, either. Even though Draco didn’t want to be with Weasley considering the circumstances, he wasn’t too fond of being with Harry, either. It’s not that he had any lasting resentment towards The Boy Who Lived, he just simply wished he wouldn’t have dealt with anyone he knew from his past today. Harry took a few steps forward to outstretch his hand towards Draco. “Mr. Malfoy.”</p><p>Draco nearly cackled at the formalities and fixed his mouth to greet him with a classic ‘Potter’ but relaxed himself and took his hand in a firm shake.</p><p>“Harry Potter.”</p><p>It was odd being in his presence again after so long. He couldn’t help but think of the war and everything that had transpired between him. He regretted how jealous he was of the unsuspecting boy, and felt that he owed more to the man than an apology he gave him some time ago. But for today, he was under his guide.</p><p>“We were initially expecting you earlier this week.” Harry spoke. It was clear he was confused as to why Draco hadn’t set his father out of the Ministry’s hold the same day it happened. “I can show you to my office so you can make your statement and speed up the process for your father. It won’t take long.”</p><p>Harry had begun to walk away, expecting Draco to follow, but he stood planted in his same spot.</p><p>“Actually,” Draco spoke. Harry turned to face him, alarmed that he wasn’t following him, and stood rather still at his protest. “I was wondering if I could see my father, first.”</p><p> </p><p>The two men continued to the back of the department to a door that led to some staircases. The stairs were far different in style than the décor of the Auror department, making it totally clear that this part of the department was older and much more outdated than some other parts of the Ministry. Draco didn’t want to put Harry on defense, but he did make sure his wand was still within reach, just in case.</p><p>As they walked, with Harry trailing a little bit farther than Draco, he saw that the corridor was long. It would be some ways away before he could get to their next destination, and all they had riding on their shoulders was silence. Or so Draco thought, as Harry began to speak up, making conversation.</p><p>“Your mother was here on the 31<sup>st</sup>, of course. I escorted your parents to the Ministry, as per protocol. We all thought we would see you there but—"</p><p>“I had plans that day.” Draco interrupted coyly.</p><p>“I see,” Harry spoke. “Well, we found that your father used the Stupefy charm. It’s not good, but they would’ve been less harsh on him had he brought you back from consciousness.”</p><p>Draco didn’t want to remember that day. It hurt him deeply to know that his relationship with his father had come to that point. Or maybe it always was.</p><p>“Yeah, well, he didn’t.”</p><p>Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face Draco who was staring at him, clearly on guard from his sudden stop.</p><p>“My only question is…why.”</p><p>“Why what?” Draco frowned.</p><p>“Why would he do that to <em>you</em>?”</p><p>Draco didn’t exactly know what to say. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Harry that he got into a fight with his father over Hermione. That part didn’t need to be disclosed. It wasn’t his business anyways. Soon, a harsh feeling came over him that he hadn’t felt in a while that brought back all the old, repressed memories he had from feeling outshined by Harry. It was his nosiness. He was always sticking his nose in things that didn’t matter or benefit him.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” Draco spoke, pushing past Harry slightly as he continued down the hall. “Where’s Weasley? At least he openly hates me. I doubt we would be having this conversation, or a conversation at all if I were with him.”</p><p>Draco grew comfortable again, hearing Harry’s footsteps behind him as he walked. It took the wizard some time to formulate an appropriate answer to Draco’s question.</p><p>“He’s off this case,” Harry said rather bleakly. “It would have been a conflict of interest considering the uh—article.”</p><p>Draco stopped and turned around to Harry once again, studying his face for any sign of sly grin or emotion relating to the article on his face. But once Draco stared, he found that there wasn’t one. Harry’s eyes seemed to speak something to Draco, something he was too prideful to see just yet. It almost looked like sympathy for what happened, but he didn’t need that either. Then, he watched as Harry slowly took out his wand, and naturally, Draco reached for his.</p><p>“Relax,” Harry put his hands up. “I’m taking out my wand to let you see your father.”</p><p>Draco was confused. They were standing there in a completely quiet and desolate corridor, with dim, jittery lights, and brick wall all around them. Draco watched as Harry cast a spell, and slowly made a large, metal door visible to them both. In the middle of the door was a rectangular window that Harry used to see inside. He whispered into the door, and it opened slowly, letting off cool air to the two men. Harry stepped inside first, letting Draco follow in. The small, brightly lit area housed five holding cells for individual witches and wizards. Inside were other Aurors who were monitoring them, but engaged in side conversations on their own.</p><p>They gave a polite nod to Harry upon entering, though when they saw Draco, they only stared at the young man. At this point, Draco wasn’t sure which narrative people followed about him, but at this point, he didn’t care. He continued to follow Harry to one of the last holding cells, and watched him unlock the gate. There, sitting in the dark and near the barred windows was Lucius. He was in his best suit, with an untouched meal nearby. Though the cell wasn’t at all glamorous, he was glad that his father was at least being fed and made sure his needs were met.</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy, your son is here.” Harry alerted. From the shadows of the cell, Lucius made the initial attempt to look over his shoulder but stopped himself before actually seeing his son in the doorway. It was a moment of silence before the older Malfoy would speak up, his gaze still fixated on the window outside.</p><p>“That man is no son of mine.” He spoke plainly. This caused Harry to turn and look at Draco. Surely it was a sight to be seen. A man, such as Draco, who idolized and looked up to his father for many years, be shunned and apparently disowned right before his eyes.</p><p>Draco stepped into the cell and looked around. The bed looked as though it hadn’t been touched. The only thing that appeared to be moved about was the chair that was initially for his eating area, which was now Lucius’ place at the window. Draco turned to Harry who stepped out of the cell and closed the door behind him, still standing near the cell just in case.</p><p>But Draco faced his father again and walked to stand beside him. The man was pained, with eyes reddened from either crying or being awake for so long. In this moment, he couldn’t find contempt for the man before him. Though his father was hard on him whenever he felt he needed to, which was often, Draco still didn’t want something bad to happen to him. He was still his father.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Draco’s voice low and sincere to the man who dared not look in his direction.</p><p>“I’d be better if I were let out of this bloody cell. But you won’t have that, will you? You’d rather make me wait because of your ego and insufferable pride.”</p><p>“I just wanted you to stop talking about <em>her.</em> I didn’t ask to be Stupefied.”</p><p>“You asked for it when you became a blood-traitor.” Lucius spat.</p><p>“Because I wouldn’t let you use a slur towards my—towards Granger, that doesn’t mean I’m a blood-traitor,” Draco frowned, nearing closer to his father. “You are drowning in your prejudices and it is disgusting.”</p><p>“Do not play dumb with me, boy. It is an insult to us both,” Lucius shouted as he finally turned to Draco. All sounds coming from outside of the holding cell came to a stop, and he knew in an instant that everyone was now listening. “You go off and move to a different flat with the inheritance <em>I’ve</em> given you, and you have the audacity to have me sit here instead of doing the right thing. The respectable thing,” Lucius stood up now, eyeing Draco intently. “Your mother told me she went to your home a few days ago. She found two wine glasses and one with lipstick on it. Don’t try to lie to me and say you aren’t a blood-traitor when you’re bedding a Mud-blood in the flat you’ve bought with <em>my</em> money!”</p><p>The two Malfoys looked at each other for what felt like hours before Lucius threw himself back into his seat, peering out the window as it began to rain outside. Draco couldn’t find any anger left within him for the man who sat there in the dark. He had tried to reason with him, to have him see his point of view, but ultimately he knew that it just wouldn’t work. So, Draco left the cell quietly, and tried to avoid Harry’s stare once he had done so. It was clear that he heard something he shouldn’t have and that, too, filled Draco with a rage that he was certain would boil over.</p><p>“Do you, uh, want to start the paperwork for his release?” Harry asked, adjusting his glasses to sit better on his face.</p><p>“No,” Draco frowned as he took one last look at his father before turning to face Harry. “Let him stay a little longer.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>--Hey hey! Finally a little early (for once) haha! I can't wait to finally get in deeper with the relationship and where Draco and Hermione stand with one another. Of course they dig each other very much, but what do they WANT? We'll find out soon enough, especially with both Draco AND Hermione's external factors weighing in on the relationship! With that being said, I hope my previous chapter wasn't too explicit. Some smut is well deserving every now and then, no? But here we are. Another day, another chapter. I'm excited to present a new chapter to you all because we're finally watching our ship sail. I truly truly hope you all enjoy it! Again, your kudos, bookmarks, hits, comments, all of it is so appreciated and helps encourage me as a writer! NEXT UPDATE: 12/23--</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione discuss the potential future of their relationship, and Ginny learns a secret.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Being back at the castle was something short of a fairytale, if Hermione could be honest with herself. She had left this place without her best friends and with memories, both good and bad. She had vowed to leave the past in the past and take things for what they were. If she had it her way, before she became intimately connected with Draco, she had no thought nor interest in thinking of Hogwarts until her kids became old enough to have their first spurs of magic. But now, a lot had changed since her previous expectations of her life. She was here, soaking in all the memories of her beloved school. There were slight differences in the architecture that she had forgotten about entirely, as a result of the damages from the war. The halls were quiet and desolate, of course with students exactly where they needed to be. In fact, she knew that with McGonagall as the Headmistress, the students were in tip-top shape, for what it was worth.</p><p>Hermione managed to break out of her train of thought for a moment as she turned to Draco, who seemed equally as nostalgic, even if he didn’t show it much. He almost looked scared, the more Hermione studied him. Of course, that was normal. Draco hadn’t really had a good history with the school when they first came back. He was subjected to teasing and verbal abuse from other students, all of which he ignored with what seemed like everything in him. Some students felt he had too much nerve to show his face back in the castle, given the war and it’s outcome, but Hermione knew, even if it were unconfirmed, that Draco came back not because he loved Hogwarts, but because some sort of solidarity would have been required if he wanted to maintain work.</p><p>Confidence sprang inside Hermione as they approached McGonagall’s office. Her door was open ajar, a few sounds coming from the other side of it, and there were lit candles that twinkled about inside. Hermione had raised a hand to knock, though stopped when feeling Draco grab her free hand to stop her action. He was even more nervous this time, and resembled an innocent child needing a boost of encouragement. So, she grabbed his hand without thinking and gave it a tight, reassuring squeeze before then knocking on the door.</p><p>“Yes, come in,” McGonagall called from inside. As the pair made themselves known by opening the door, Professor McGonagall stood up, smiling greatly at the sight of Hermione, though not showing too much emotion to Draco. That was odd. She was expecting Draco from the owl that he had sent about requesting her time, but she wasn’t expecting Hermione at all. To her own knowledge, Draco hadn’t been back to the grand castle since his last year, and while it was great to see the professor after all these years, she hoped that she wouldn’t be too hard on Draco when considering him. “Oh, Miss Granger! What a pleasant surprise!”</p><p>Hermione let go of Draco’s hand, not realizing she had held it all this time, and walked towards McGonagall, giving a brief hug to the Professor she adored.</p><p>“It’s good to see you, Professor.” She beamed as she broke away, she faced Draco and brought him closer by a slight tug of his arm. She knew that Draco hadn’t really communicated with McGonagall up until now. She was hoping that she could be the bridge to bring these two together.</p><p>“As well as you, Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall looked from the witch and the wizard, still perplexed at the sight that she was seeing and stepped aside. “Please, come in. Then maybe you can tell me what I can help you both with.”</p><p>Draco and Hermione sat down at her desk as McGonagall took her seat. Though the surroundings were different, she couldn’t help but think of her wedding planning business and how she was giving that up all because of an article. Seeing McGonagall at her desk, perched diligently, it reminded her of how she used to interview couples to see whether or not she would take on their wedding. She wondered if from where McGonagall sat, if she and Draco looked anything like a couple to her. Had she read the papers? Did she even pay attention to simple things like that? Still, as Hermione tried to regain her focus, she made sure to tuck that thought away for later. She was prepared to ask Draco how he felt, and what he wanted from their connection.</p><p>As they sat, McGonagall peered over her lenses at the two of them, suspicious that no one was giving an answer. Hermione turned to Draco who looked painfully uncomfortable, his eyes fixated on a large moving portrait of the fallen headmaster on the wall just behind McGonagall. It was Dumbledore in the same way that Hermione had last seen him with an intellectual smirk on his face, and Phoenix at his side. Every now and then he would give his prized pet a small caress or look. Then, he would look back to Hermione and Draco with as much curiosity as McGonagall. It was at this moment that Hermione realized something. Draco was possibly reliving the events of the most difficult task placed on him when he was only sixteen . She knew it was hard on him to see Dumbledore again, but she also knew that he would kick himself for not pulling it together when he had the chance. Hermione reached over and nudged him slightly, seeing him perk up and center. It was like he had popped back into himself.</p><p>“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He asked, cheeks flushed from the embarrassment of his distractions.</p><p>“I didn’t say anything, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall started. “I am trying to figure out, however, why two former students decided to pop into my office, though.”</p><p>Draco cleared his throat and shifted in his seat slightly.</p><p>“I saw the ad in the Prophet that Hogwarts was looking for a Potions Professor for the upcoming school year,” He swallowed while locking eyes with her intense gaze. “I was wondering how one goes about applying.”</p><p>McGonagall removed her glasses momentarily and looked at the two before her.</p><p>“I’ll have you both know that <em>this</em> position is not just a job. It is a career. A vow to teach young witches and wizards necessary skills that will take them far in the world that they will soon embrace. Not only will you be a Potions Professor, if you do receive the offer Mr. Malfoy, you will be Head of Slytherin house, as well. Is this something you’d want to take on?”</p><p>Draco nodded quickly and leaned forward after she spoke. He clung onto every word that was said, and gave a charming smile at the brief job description. “I would like that, yes. Should we start the application now?”</p><p>McGonagall eyed the boy for a moment and looked down at the paperwork, shuffling around for a parchment that had handwriting on it, much different from her own.</p><p>“I see…” She spoke under her breath, studying the paper.</p><p>“Professor?” Hermione asked, completely curious in what she was reading and why her demeanor changed from being focused to now indifferent.</p><p>“I’m afraid that you are unqualified, Mr. Malfoy.”</p><p>Hermione leaned forward, nearly jumping out of her seat as she looked at the Headmistress.</p><p>“But Professor, that isn’t fair. You haven’t even given Draco the chance to show off his brilliance.”</p><p>Professor McGonagall looked up at the witch, not even slightly shocked that she had spoken up, but mostly taken back that she had spoken up in the defense of Draco Malfoy. Certainly this was a dream.</p><p>“Before Professor Dumbledore <em>died,</em> Miss Granger, he left a list of reasons why one should or should not become a Professor at Hogwarts if we found ourselves stuck with a difficult case.”</p><p>“What’s on the list?” Hermione asked. Just behind McGonagall, the portrait of Dumbledore changed, and he was now getting up from his seat, removing himself from the portrait and out of view. But as she focused on the painting, just as Draco did, McGonagall began to speak again.</p><p>“If the applicant is closer to the age twenty-one than they are to thirty, if the applicant has not held preferable behavior while a student at Hogwarts, if the applicant left Hogwarts in an undesirable fashion, and if the applicant is…” Professor McGonagall trailed off for a moment and looked at Draco this time. “Or once was a Death Eater. And those are some of the restrictions that I see, today.”</p><p>Hermione huffed and saw Draco’s energy change. He was using occlumency to help himself think straight with this situation. Still, holding faith within her above all else, she turned back to the wiser witch before her.</p><p>“Professor McGonagall, with all due respect, I disagree entirely with these qualifications. Professor Snape was a Death Eater who played for both sides in order to give Professor Dumbledore information about Voldemort.”</p><p>“You’ve answered your own question, I’m afraid. Professor Snape was a <em>former</em> Death Eater, which was excusable to Albus for obvious reasons.”</p><p>“But Draco was not a Death Eater by choice. He was forced to do so against his will when he was only sixteen! I mean, he’s brilliant at Potions. Professor Snape would’ve agreed, too.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Miss Granger, but the only way this will work out for Mr. Malfoy is if he tries again at a later date, or if he receives a letter of recommendation from a Ministry of Magic official.”</p><p>Hermione tried to stop the small smile threatening to burst forth, but found that her excitement was too much to bear. She glanced at Draco, who was sitting solemnly at her side, and focused back on McGonagall who was just confused.</p><p>“I’m certain that Draco can get what you need in order to start the application process.”</p><p>Professor McGonagall turned to Draco who was quiet. She watched the young man, seeing a part of him that wasn’t the young man she saw growing up. The arrogance wasn’t at all detectable, and he wasn’t as quick tempered as she remembered.  Though it was charming how Hermione defended Draco, the professor realized she only spoke with her, rather than the man inquiring about the position.</p><p>“I want you to know that I’m not opposed to you, Draco. I’m simply following the Headmaster’s orders.”</p><p>“But you’re the Headmistress now, Professor. Ultimately it is up to you.” Hermione pressed, though still gently.</p><p>Professor McGonagall let out a small, defeated sigh. It was no use arguing with someone as determined as Hermione Granger. A brief silence casted over the three of them, and soon Dumbledore reappeared in the portrait behind them, sitting down and stroking Phoenix yet again.</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy, there are other applicants ahead of you,” She started, peering over her glasses at the young man. “But I will see to it that you get the chance to apply. After this, if you get selected, there are a round of other interviews you must go through in order to then be considered fully. We will be in touch.”</p><p> </p><p>Once the duo left Professor McGonagall’s office, and found themselves back in the quiet, empty corridors that they had grown up in, Hermione paused at the silence. It was eerie now, not seeing any students lurking about. Hermione figured it was because they were older now, and that most of the time they weren’t spent wondering what was on the outside of the classroom, but instead inside of it—learning. Succeeding. She turned to Draco who had his hands in his coat pocket, a small somberness to him that struck her.</p><p>“Are you alright?” She asked as they strolled along the corridors.</p><p>“Fine,” he spoke. Hermione had began to figure out when Draco was fine and when he wasn’t. “I just didn’t expect for you to speak up for me like that. It threw me off, a little.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I just got really passionate. I wanted to help. I saw you sitting there and I could tell the painting bothered you so I didn’t know what else to do but to say something,” Hermione took a good look at the blond and noticed how troubled he was. Perhaps the photo of Dumbledore touched him more than she thought. “You’re brilliant, and I’m sure she knows that. She’s just trying to live up to Dumbledore’s standards. He’s been the Headmaster for a very long time.”</p><p>“I just thought people would no longer have the idea that I’m some sort of murderous monster. I’m not a Death Eater but I still get treated like one.”</p><p>“Hey, come on now. You’re not any of those things. You never were,” She spoke, bringing him in close. “I saw how you looked at the portrait of him.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter.” Draco whispered through the hug.</p><p>“But it does. I need you to know that I care about you. And that I’m here for you.”</p><p>Hermione and Draco broke apart, staring at each other in the same way that they did on New Year’s Eve with a solemnity that haunted them both. They were both emotional from seeing their fallen Headmaster, but in entirely different ways. Hermione leaned in slowly, wanting to plant a quick peck on his lips while they shared the emptiness of the corridors together. She had gotten midway before Draco gently broke away from her. He cleared his throat and flashed a quick smile in her direction while she sat in the rejection.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable—”</p><p>“Oh, it’s fine. I just didn’t think this would be the ideal place to snog, you know,” Draco laughed nervously. “Maybe we should grab some lunch? Sound good?”</p><p>Hermione watched his face, knowing there was so much that they had to talk about in regards to them that wasn’t being said yet. And she knew he wasn’t going to bring it up first. He had been acting a bit strange since the night they shared together. He was so self-assured and relaxed the morning after, and now it just seemed like he was harboring every emotion possible. She would never admit it aloud, especially not in the shadowy halls of their former school, but it concerned her. It really did. But for now, she nodded and stood by his side, agreeing to go to lunch with him. And soon, they were off.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The small pastry shop was a bit more crowded than usual. Whether it be from the rain that had just started to pour heavily outside, or the fact that the scent of sweet, buttery biscuits and scones drew them in, Hermione and Draco considered themselves lucky to have had found a table near the back. They were tucked away from the commotion of patrons near the front door, trying to make purchases and shuffle in with wet coats and boots. There was pleasant music playing that set the easy tone of the café, but not enough to take precedence over the silence between her and Draco.</p><p>Hermione had been so used to knowing how to work with Ron and Harry. Sometimes she prided herself on knowing them better than they knew themselves, but with Draco, things were a bit different. She had truly known him for the past six or seven months when she saw him in all lights, but realized she had to learn more about who Draco was inside of a romantic connection. But now she just wasn’t so sure if he was so hot and cold on his own or because of how comfortable she was with being intimate with him.</p><p>She watched Draco bring his hot chocolate to his lips, taking a sip and then looking around the café. A small annoyance grew on his face while he scanned the scene and looked back at Hermione who was embarrassed that she was caught staring.</p><p>“It’s so crowded in here. I can barely hear myself think.” A touch of moodiness in his tone made her unintentionally think of the old Draco that she had experienced in her younger years. He wasn’t as smooth and calm in his voice like he normally was. In fact, he genuinely looked bothered even though it was his idea to come out.</p><p>“Thinking about anything in particular?” Hermione asked as she took a sip then, too. Draco glanced at her with a low sigh and continued his spectating of the café. His eyes settled on a couple nearby who were sitting next to each other at a booth, snogging, despite the crowd. Hermione caught sight of this too and looked at the couple, amused that they would do so so effortlessly in front of everyone else. But more importantly, with their age. They were an older couple, completely enthralled in each other as Hermione assumed they had been all their life. It was sweet to her to see love of all ages.</p><p>“I’m thinking about how they should get a room.” Draco pointed out as he rolled his eyes at their public displays.</p><p>Hermione managed to ignore his statement enough to get her thoughts together. She wanted to talk to him in a way where he didn’t feel blind sided by her questions. She didn’t know what to expect from him with this type of question, and wondered anxiously if he would lash out from a rather unsuccessful job inquiry on top of her relationship  curiosities, but the one thing Hermione did know is that the worst part wasn’t asking; it was not knowing.</p><p>“Draco, what are we doing?” She asked softly, looking at him with a neutral expression. There was neither happiness nor anger pressed on her keen features, but instead genuine interest for what he saw fit for the relationship.</p><p>“Having hot chocolate?” Draco lifted his mug.</p><p>“No. As in with us.”</p><p>Draco narrowed his eyes slightly at the young witch and then straightened himself to answer her. He mulled over a response for a moment as he searched around the café, as though the answer were lying on someone else’s table or in the beautiful brick wall of the shop.</p><p>“We’re taking things slow, I suppose.”</p><p>“Taking things slow?” Hermione asked. Skepticism rose from within her at his brief explanation. How could they possibly take things slow when she’s already slept with him? Why work their way backwards? How would they possibly do that?</p><p>“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes nervously looking everywhere else but at her. “You don’t think we should?”</p><p>Hermione gave a careless shrug, though she was feeling anything besides careless towards their conversation. Some sort of direction would be nice, or at least a plan. But she wasn’t hearing either of that, and so she became confused.</p><p>“Slower than the night we shared on New Years Eve?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Draco nodded, his eyes peering at her carefully, trying to gather whether or not she were upset. “Maybe.”</p><p>Hermione took a sip from her hot chocolate and looked at him, this time more serious than she had ever been.</p><p>“Do you have feelings for me?”</p><p>Draco scooted over to her in their booth and placed his arm over her shoulders as he brought her close.</p><p>“Of course I do. I’ve had them for a while now, actually. I just had a hard time comprehending them at the time,” Hermione looked down at her own hands, to which Draco rested his on top of hers. “I really like you and I very much enjoy spending time with you. Honestly. I just have a lot that I’m working through right now and I wouldn’t want you to get tied up in any sort of nonsense because that wouldn’t be fair to you. But I don’t want to stop <em>this,</em> either. I appreciate your presence in my life and I want to see where this goes. I just may need a little time to fully commit to this, but if you don’t want to wait then I’d understand.”</p><p>Hermione took one good look at Draco and saw the sincerity strewn on his face and in his eyes, a look that made Hermione feel guilty for how forthcoming she was with getting an answer from him. She knew that he had only called off his wedding a few weeks ago, and the last thing she wanted to do was wedge herself in between his feelings as he worked through them and anything else he was tackling. So Hermione agreed that maybe taking things slow would be best for both of them as they tried to get a better grip on life without the partners they had grown so used to.</p><p>To her surprise, Draco toyed with her hair by her ear for a moment before a gentle kiss came landing on her forehead. Draco would never know it, but that small, simple act of reassurance eased Hermione just as much as his words did. And so, Hermione decided to leave the topic alone, for both the sake of their own progress and out of respect for what Draco needed to accomplish, himself.</p><p>   </p><p>—-</p><p> </p><p>About two weeks or so after the conversation between herself and Draco, Hermione had found herself juggling her work at the Ministry and wedding planning for Ginny and Harry. It was quite the balancing act, honestly. She would come home from work and do some research for her friends, and when she wasn’t wedding planning, she was spending more time with Draco. But the more time they spent together, though enjoyable, the more she wondered what the future would be like for them, if he truly did see one. Hermione felt a little strange letting herself get so involved while things between them were still so fresh. She realized soon that she wasn’t letting herself be happy in the present as she focused on the ‘what if’s’ of the future. But, she wanted him. She liked him. And she waited each day they met to learn something new about the wizard she had come to grow close with just out of a chance meeting back in July. She learned that sometimes, Draco liked cold showers in the morning if he were extra sluggish, and that he tends to be a bit whiny when he gets sick. Hermione also learned that he puts his shoes on in an odd fashion; one sock, then his shoe. And then his other sock, and the other shoe.</p><p>Hermione even noticed that she was left thinking about him and smiling as she did so; something new, to the witch. He was funny and brilliant in all the ways she never thought he could be. She only wished the world saw it, too, but knowing that she got the best parts of him did make her feel special.</p><p>So, she made herself comfortable in the guest seat of the Muggle bridal boutique while Ginny tried on dresses, and let her mind wander. Hermione was day dreaming about how she and Draco got caught in the rain sometime last week, and how such good fun it was. Running, screaming, and laughing until her abdomen muscles were completely sore. She had to admit that these were the best times that she’s ever had, truly. And no one but her and Draco knew about it. That was the beauty of privacy in a world where Rita Skeeter existed.</p><p>The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, and eventually a giggle escaped her. Her eyes were focusing on the stylish rack of veils to her left, though she only found amusement in the memories, not the wedding item. Not paying attention to the fact that her friend had resurfaced with an entirely new gown, Hermione still sat in perfect memory until she jumped when hearing Ginny’s loud clearing of her throat. When she turned to look at her gorgeous friend in the dress, she blushed when seeing the sly smile on the redhead’s face. This look was so suspicious but also full of wonder at the way Hermione was so lost in thought, and happily so.</p><p>Hermione tried to ignore her stares by taking in the beautiful gown that she was dressed in, in hopes of bringing the attention off of her. The A-line dress had cropped sleeves with a jeweled belt tucked at the waist. It was beautiful and simple for someone like Ginny whose beauty shined through so effortlessly.</p><p>“Oh, Ginny! You look absolutely stunning.”</p><p>“You think so?” She asked, giving it a twirl and watching the skirt flare out beautifully from the motion. “You think it’s <em>me?</em>”</p><p>Hermione stood up quickly and nodded, walking over to feel the skirt.</p><p>“I think so! It’s classic, and beautiful. It’s deeply romantic and alluring. It’s…gorgeous.”</p><p>Ginny turned to look at her friend, a smirk on her face from seeing Hermione and crossed her arms in front of her chest. It was clear that Ginny had tried her best to not bring up her friend’s behaviour, but couldn’t resist when hearing her particularly wordy description of the dress.</p><p>“Who is he?”</p><p>“The designer? I don’t know. Let me—”</p><p>“Not the designer,” Ginny interrupted. “Who’s the guy that’s got you like this?”</p><p>Hermione blushed and stepped away from her friend, settling back down on the chairs that she was observing the previous dresses from.</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>Ginny looked back in the mirror at herself in the dress, analyzing every detail while still managing to hold this conversation.</p><p>“Oh, come on. It’s so obvious! And you suck at hiding your feelings,” Ginny expressed triumphantly. “So, talk! Who’s the bloke that caught your eye?”</p><p>An uncomfortable, invasive feeling crept within Hermione at Ginny’s words. She wasn’t upset with what her friend had said, but she was a bit embarrassed that Ginny had caught on to her. Ginny was someone that Hermione thought would be her sister-in-law someday, and while that wouldn’t be the case anymore, Hermione still valued her as a good friend. But still, the idea that she would have to confess to Ginny that she was interested in someone other than her brother seemed a little strange. Had she not have been found out, Hermione was certain she wouldn’t have brought up Draco until things got more serious. But for now, they were still testing the waters. It was all still so new.</p><p>“He’s…someone we met at Hogwarts.”</p><p>“Does he have a name,” She asked sarcastically, now staring at Hermione who only met her question with silence. “What was his house? How old is he? Jeez, you gotta give me something to work with here.”</p><p>“Well, he’s a bit tall…and fair.”</p><p>Ginny blinked at the description Hermione had and narrowed her eyes. It was clear to Hermione that she could tell she wasn’t giving the full story.</p><p>“Tall and fair? You’re interested in someone after the breakup of a six-year long relationship and the only thing you’ll tell me about him is that he’s <em>tall and fair</em>?”</p><p>“I’m not good at describing people.” Hermione waved her off, though she knew it were a lie.</p><p>“Are you sure? Because I remember in your second year when Lavender Brown called Lockhart ugly and uninteresting and you described him as a shockingly beautiful and intelligent wizard with hair of gold and—”</p><p>“Alright, alright,” Hermione grinned as she put her hands up in defeat. “Let’s just call him…Tom, for now. There’s not much else I can say except that he’s a really great guy that I’ve known for some time and that we’re taking things slow.”</p><p>“Then why won’t you just tell me his real name instead of using a code, Hermione? What are you hiding? Oh bloody hell, it’s Krum, isn’t it? Man, Ron would be crushed.”</p><p>“No, it’s not Krum,” Hermione protested, though occasionally she did wonder how her Yule Ball date was holding up these days. Her nostalgia nearly wore on until she realized that she could just open up a copy of Quidditch Times to find out. “And I’m not hiding anything! We’re just really casual right now and I’m taking everything with a grain of salt.”</p><p>Ginny smirked and walked over to the racks where the veils were. A few other brides entered the shop, giggling excitedly at the array of gowns, and accessories in the store. Hermione, feeling a bit more comfortable at Ginny’s side during the influx of people, stood by her.</p><p>“Are you mad?” She asked, carefully watching Ginny’s expressions just in case she were.</p><p>“I’m not mad,” Ginny shrugged her shoulder. “Are you going to invite him to the wedding, though?”</p><p>Hermione initially didn’t understand the nature of the question. It seemed like such an odd thing to ask, especially considering her and Ron’s breakup. Because of this, Hermione didn’t really know what to say. She and Draco weren’t serious, and the last thing she wanted to do was involve him in that way if he didn’t want to be just yet. But who knew what could happen between now and April? Still, the offer seemed too good to be true.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t think I should.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t want to make Ron upset by bringing him, you know?”</p><p>“Listen, I love you and obviously I love Ron,” Ginny started. “If I say it’s okay, then it’s okay. All I ask is that you hold off on any snogging at the wedding if this dashingly handsome, mysterious, unnamed man does come, you know? And besides, Ron’s inviting Padma as his friend.”</p><p>Hermione blinked at the revelation, a small smile crossing her face. To hear that Ron was inviting Padma as his date to his sister’s wedding was interesting, to say the least. But if anything, Hermione was happy that he had found someone so that he wasn’t going alone, even if they were just friends.</p><p>“I guess I should be careful with the seating arrangements, then.” Hermione teased as she grabbed a veil and placed it on Ginny, flaring it out over her shoulders gracefully.</p><p>“Hell yeah.” Ginny nodded. For a moment, Hermione wasn’t certain what Ginny was remarking at. Was the ‘hell yeah’ for her suggestion, or was it from Hermione’s veil choice? Either way, Hermione smiled at her friend and took a step back to look at her. For a minute as she stood, a group of girls who had come in for dresses saw Ginny and all cheered at the beautiful young woman with applauses and the like. Ginny looked at Hermione, clearly embarrassed at all the attention but falling more in love with the dress, either way. It felt good to have Ginny back in her life as friends, again. She missed her company in a way that Hermione didn’t know was possible. But as she continued to think of how gorgeous her and Harry’s wedding would be, the more she thought about Draco possibly being her date. She was excited to know that Ginny was open to extending an invitation, but what plagued her the most was that she hadn’t yet told her friend who ‘Tom’ really was. There, in the bridal shop, Hermione wondered if Ginny would backtrack when finding out that the man who had set Hermione’s heart on fire was Draco Malfoy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello! Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening wherever you lovelies are! I’m so happy to bring you guys another chapter! Not much to say here other than that things will be progressing soon! I’m also happy to say that I’m feeling much better now, and that my chapter updates will be more regular now. Again, your comments, kudos and such are all appreciated!! Xx Next Update: 12/25–</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco pays a visit to the Auror Department for a final decision about his father.</p>
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  <strong>FEBRUARY</strong>
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  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The clock on Potter’s wall ticked and ticked without either of the hands properly moving. It only made the time that Draco spent in his office wear on even longer. The seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as he sat before him, reading the letter he wrote to help his father’s release. From where he sat at his desk, Draco noticed a picture of Harry, Ron, and Hermione on his desk from when they were younger, sitting on display. On the other side of the desk was a photograph of him and Ginny from the night that they were engaged, possibly. They were on the floor of a home, laughing heartily to themselves in what seemed like the purest form of love. For a moment, Draco felt what could only be pinpointed as envy crossing over him at the easy life that Potter had, now. He wanted the quiet life, spending time with the woman he loved. He wanted to be comforted in his choices by not having push back. He wanted to freely feel everything he had for Hermione, and yet here he was, attempting to release the man who vilified him for even the thought of being involved with her.</p><p>Potter’s eyes reached the bottom of the paper, and then rose again to the top of the parchment, rereading everything that he wrote and explained, though without too much detail. Although Draco was sure that Harry possibly had an idea as to who his father was talking about when he saw him last, he figured that since Lucius hadn’t said Hermione’s name, he had no reason to assume. Then again, he was her best friend, and assuming is all he could’ve ever done. Draco wondered what today would entail if his father did manage to get released, and the impact on what today would bring. And so, Draco allowed his mind to drift off and wander to simpler but not necessarily happier times.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>HOGWARTS, 1992</em>
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  <em>A large, lit Christmas tree in the Slytherin common room twinkled beautifully, especially in the dark. Though it were still morning, the dark snow clouds that shrouded over the school didn’t help in setting the tone. However, Draco still managed to find joy in the small, simple things that set the tone for the holidays. He couldn’t wait for the holiday break, finding the time to see his parents after being away. But on this Saturday morning, he was lucky enough to finally have one of his first gifts from his mother. Draco, still dressed in his pajamas, plopped himself in front of the tree and searched through piles and piles of presents, hoping to get to his. He had grabbed the larger presents first, and tossed them aside with annoyance when seeing names that weren’t his own. Crabbe. Goyle. Bullstrode. Draco hitched a breath, hoping that his mother hadn’t forgotten him in their Christmas shopping. Still holding onto his ambition, he then reached for a few of the medium sized gifts, and tossed them aside, seeing repeated names. How unfair! Other Slytherins got more than one gift, and yet he didn’t have any!</em>
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  <em>Draco looked up at the tree and then stood up, appreciating completely that no one had been awake yet to notice him in his pajamas as he snooped around the common room. He searched under every seat cushion, in the nearby bookshelves and on high shelves in the dark, thinking that perhaps one of the older Slytherin’s that had taken an interest in bothering him had hid it from him. The thought, so vile and mean-spirited shook him up inside as he returned to his spot in front of the Christmas tree. Now, of all times, he wanted to know he hadn’t been forgotten or overlooked.</em>
  
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  <em>A small sigh came from the twelve-year-old as he sat in disappointment, his eyes envious orbs that glared at each of the gifts that hadn’t had his name on it, until one stood out to him.</em>
  
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  <em>His gift.</em>
  
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  <em>It hadn’t occurred to him then that he often made grand assumptions about what was entitled to him. He had only thought to look at the larger gifts, completely ignoring the small ones because he never had one before. Well, that was until now. </em>
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  <em>A feeling of embarrassment came over Draco at the sight of such a small box with a card tied to it tightly. He always boasted and bragged about the biggest, coolest things he had at home. Nearly every toy from Zonko’s, Quidditch posters signed from all the top players, and then some. But to be given this? His peers would surely laugh at him. Draco snatched the gift quickly, his hands gripping the box tightly as his eyes focused on the red envelope that had his mother’s handwriting on the front. The card was a Christmas tree similar to the one he sat near currently, but inside read the careful words from his mother:</em>
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  <em>Draco,</em>
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  <em>            I hope this gift serves as</em>
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  <em>               A reminder that your father</em>
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  <em>              And I are with you always. Even when we</em>
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  <em>               Are apart. We love you.</em>
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  <em>                                                            -Mummy</em>
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  <em>The box was the next thing Draco opened, ripping through the shiny gold wrapping paper and snatching off the red bow on top. Through his digging, he wondered what it could be. It was small, with not much room for something other than a collectors item of some sort. Maybe it was a snitch that was caught from a Quidditch game his father went to. Or maybe it were a rare animal of some sort. The possibilities proved endless to the curious boy, but were limited as he opened the top. Revealing itself was a snow globe, heavy and antiquated with a photograph of him, his mother, and father all inside. He and his mother were smiling, and in the photograph she bent down to plant a loving kiss on his cheek. Lucius, however, remained unchanged in his expression, but placed a heavy hand on Draco’s shoulder. It was his own way of showing affection and pride, even if it could go unnoticed, though it never did. </em>
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  <em>Draco’s vision became blurry from the gift, and he could feel himself starting to cry. He didn’t know what it was about this particular year, but it were harder on him than the previous one. He had friends, he was quenching his thirst for knowledge, and so on. But now, the only thing he really focused on was fitting in with just more than the friends he already had. Sure, Crabbe and Goyle were always by his side, never threatening to leave him, but ever since his father bribed the older Slytherins to let him in on the Quidditch team, he had been taunted about it incessantly. The pokes and jeers came from mostly the Gryffindor house including Harry and his band of idiots. Draco even had to shut up Granger with a word that he had been too afraid to use, but was encouraged to do so by his father, should she ever cross him. At first he felt bad for bellowing out the slur in front of so many other students, or even at all, but he kept trying to convince himself that somehow, she deserved the name-call. But the teasing didn’t stop at the Gryffindor house. It had found its way back to the Slytherin house, particularly with the captain, Marcus Flint. </em>
  
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  <em>While he didn’t expect such a gift from his mother, thinking he should’ve only received something lighthearted and fun, he was actually very fond of the gift. He needed it, and vowed to keep it close with him especially when at Hogwarts. Actually seeing them was better than receiving letters, even though he appreciated both. The young boy stood up, keeping the snow globe close to him as well as the card, and retreated back into his dormitory to change his clothes and get ready for the day. </em>
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  <em>Once breakfast had begun to roll around and a few students were in the Great Hall eating, Draco sat down at his usual spot at the table near Crabbe and Goyle who were munching excitedly on the feasts. Draco plastered a grin on his face as he saw his friends.</em>
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  <em>“Hello boys.” He greeted, stealing some toast off of Goyle’s plate. </em>
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  <em>“I was going to eat that!” Goyle protested as he reached for another slice. Malfoy gave an uncaring shrug and looked at his friends. </em>
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  <em>“Got anything good under the tree?” Draco asked. Just because he was curious about their gifts didn’t mean he was any less proud of his own. He simply wanted to know what it is that they had in those big boxes of theirs. </em>
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  <em>“Yeah! Mum and dad got me a set of wizard chess, clothes, and a new pair of dress shoes.” </em>
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  <em>“And what about you Crabbe?” </em>
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  <em>“I’m not sure. Mum told me to open it in a large space, though.” </em>
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  <em>The fact that Draco was glad that their gifts weren’t anything superb tickled him a bit. He didn’t want to be outdone by his own friends. He got enough of that with Harry Potter. There were moments, however, when his own father did talk about Potter more than he discussed him. It was always, ‘do better than him’ and ‘shine just as bright, if not then brighter’ than the boy. </em>
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  <em>“What about you, Malfoy?” Goyle asked, still chewing on his filling breakfast. </em>
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  <em>Draco debated on what to tell his friends. How could he ever show them something as sentimental as the snow globe where his mum kissed him in it? Sure he cherished it—it was right there in his robes pocket! But he knew that his pals would think he were soft and babyish. He didn’t want that. Besides, none of the gifts either of them mentioned really held sentimental value, now did it? So, Draco shifted in his seat and prepared a good lie. </em>
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  <em>“My mum and dad said all my gifts are too big to be sent to Hogwarts. They’ll be waiting for me when I arrive home, later.” Draco grinned at how convincing his lie was and looked at the entrance to the Great Hall. Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, and a few other older Slytherin boys on the Quidditch team were heading towards the table. “Crap. Move over Goyle! Hurry up!”</em>
  
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  <em>With a quickened heartbeat, Draco stood up, waving charmingly at Marcus to try and get his attention. His last task before the end of the school term would be to get on Marcus Flint’s good graces just in time for the new year. </em>
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  <em>“Hey Marcus,” Draco called out. “I saved you a seat.”</em>
  
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  <em>Marcus and Adrian looked to each other, exchanging a brief joke amongst themselves while they looked at Draco and laughed. Adrian gave Marcus a strong pat on the back before he neared the smiling blond boy. At that, Marcus eyed Draco suspiciously. </em>
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  <em>“After you.” Marcus sarcastically spoke as he allowed the younger Slytherin to sit down first. Draco plopped down rather excitedly, the snow globe that had been concealed in his pocket knocking against the wooden bench of the table with a loud thud. </em>
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  <em>Marcus looked down at Draco’s robes, seeing the heaviness swinging from within his pocket. </em>
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  <em>“Jeez Malfoy. Got a bunch of rememberalls in there or something?” </em>
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  <em>“No, it’s uh…” </em>
  
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  <em>Marcus reached down into Draco’s robes, removing the object for himself and studying it closely. The snow globe caught everyone’s attention nearby, especially the student who held it. </em>
  
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  <em>“Well well well, fellas. Looks like Malfoy’s a momma’s boy.”</em>
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  <em>The rest of the Quidditch team erupted in laughter, and Draco could feel his cheeks growing red from embarrassment. He looked to Crabbe and Goyle who weren’t laughing, but were trying to stifle small smiles from the sixth year student. </em>
  
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  <em>“Give it back.” Draco bit as he stood up, holding his hand out. It was bad enough that the snow globe had been seen, but it was worse now that they were making a spectacle out of it. Marcus, not being fond of Draco’s tone of voice, smirked mischievously. </em>
  
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  <em>“Well, Adrian did miss his last Quidditch practice. How about we round him up?” Marcus spoke rhetorically. He winked at Adrian and in a flash, both boys were darting out of the Great Hall with the snow globe. Draco stood for a moment, completely in shock at what was occurring and chased after them. To his dismay, there weren’t any professors supervising the area to help him. He only had himself in this moment, and nothing but hope. </em>
  
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  <em>In the corridors that were nearly empty aside from a few students walking with their trunks, were Marcus and Adrian standing a good distance apart.</em>
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  <em>“Oi, Malfoy! Check out his form!” Marcus called out sheepishly. He reared himself backwards for a moment and tossed the snow globe at Adrian. </em>
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  <em>“Don’t! You’re going to break it!” Draco called out, but was nearly begging them at this point. </em>
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  <em>“Relax, why would we be on the team if we couldn’t play? Unless someone’s father bought their way in, then that’s a different story.” Adrian remarked which caused a great laugh to come from Marcus. </em>
  
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  <em>The two went back and forth with the snow globe, priding themselves on catching with their eyes clothes, while doing turns and jumps and all other ways to make their tosses even riskier. Draco knew he had to do something, and that the worse thing to do was let this go on any longer before the unthinkable happened. But, he assessed the situation. If he stopped them from their focus, it would surely break. </em>
  
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  <em>Hearing some footsteps coming in the hall as the two older boys continued on with their tosses, Draco turned and saw Filch stalking about angrily. Finally, an adult to stop them. He imagined how silly they would feel when Filch came up on them to stop their game, and how he would tell them off for their antics. If he were even feeling mad enough, he would decide to take their brooms away at his father’s command. Yeah, that’ll teach them.</em>
  
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  <em>“What are you lot doing?” Filch called out in a voice that screeched through the empty halls. Marcus, clearly startled by the sudden presence, turned his face to look at the caretaker, and froze when hearing the sound of glass hitting the floor. Draco turned, his eyes widening at the horrid sight nearby.</em>
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  <em>“No!” He called out, kneeling beside the shattered glass and the oozing liquid. The photograph of his parents inside of it had stopped moving momentarily as it lay in the water. Witnessing the sight, Draco could feel his heart shattering just like the glass did. </em>
  
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  <em>“Get out of the corridor before I go get McGonagall!” Filch called. Both Adrian and Marcus darted from the corridors and back into the Great Hall, leaving Draco all alone in the silence. </em>
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  <em>Draco tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat that he felt, but couldn’t do so. Instead, the pain that burned him emotionally erupted forth through the silence, and he unleashed warm tears all down his face, coupled with some cries. The beauty of the gift that he didn’t entirely appreciate was gone in the same day that he received it. How could he tell his mother? What would he say if she asked him about it? He would have to lie and say that he left it in his dorm. And even so, he wouldn’t have a piece of them with him to cherish when he came back. After all of this, things would no longer be the same as he stayed at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to come back after the holidays and face either of his Quidditch teammates if this was how he was going to be treated. </em>
  
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  <em>As he knelt by his broken snow globe, staring at his own reflection in the small puddle it made, Draco looked up when noticing the sound of squeaky wheels coming in his direction. </em>
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  <em>Granger. She was dressed in her normal school robes, but it seemed as though she were preparing herself for Christmas holiday, just like he should’ve been. Instead, he was here— kneeling on the cold floor as he mourned his broken trinket.</em>
  
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  <em>Suddenly, more embarrassment came over him. How long had she been walking down this corridor? Did she see it all happening? It didn’t matter. She was the last person he wanted to see right now, fearing that she would tell Potter all about his sadness and jump on the bandwagon of being taunted for being weak. But the longer he looked at the young girl, the more he realized that she didn’t wear a look of glee on her face from his suffering, but much rather concern. She brought herself and her trunk to a complete stop nearby him, and Draco looked up at the witch. He didn’t have the energy for a snide remark or insult about her nosiness, so he watched her just as intently as she were watching him. </em>
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  <em>Draco wasn’t so sure, but he felt that she were contemplating something. He just needed to know what that was. And so, she took out her wand and pointed it at the puddle. </em>
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  <em>“Reparo.” She spoke confidently, and watched along with the distressed boy as his snow globe slowly put itself back together. All the water, the artificial snow, the glitter and even the photograph was now moving just as it once did. Draco reached out towards his gift, inspecting it greatly and then remaining stunned. It was perfect. Not a single scuff mark or scrape. He looked up at Hermione with his tear stained face in total confusion. How could she do something as kind as this for him when he had been God awful towards her just two months prior. He called her an unspeakable name when she pointed out his Quidditch team bribery, and felt his ego take a hit as a result. Still, it wasn’t fair to her. At the time, she was only defending her friend. </em>
  
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  <em>Having finished with her spell, Hermione tucked her wand back into her robes and continued about her way as she gripped her trunk. Draco stood up quickly, this time gripping the snow globe in his hands as he watched her slowly come to a stop and turn around to face him one last time. </em>
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  <em>“Happy Christmas, Malfoy.” She spoke softly. Hermione stood and watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he would greet her in the same way back. But he didn’t, even though he wanted to. Instead, he simply swallowed his greeting nervously and continued his gaze. Draco’s stomach turned with butterflies at the sight of her, and for a moment he remembered the time that they were friends for only an hour until he changed his mind because of the words his father spoke to him. It would’ve been nice to have her on his side at a time like this.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Once Harry had finally finished rereading his statement, Draco straightened himself in the seat and looked eagerly at the man. While he didn’t think his father deserved to be released, he felt that with having his mother as a possible mediator, that maybe things could be better for them all. He didn’t have to tell his parents that he was dating her, though he knew he planned to do so seriously, and soon. Still, he didn’t want his mother upset with him, too. If his father were to fully turn his back on him, he needed his mother on his side, at least.</p><p>Harry placed the parchment down and looked at Draco, clear hesitation in his energy just before he spoke to the wizard before him.</p><p>“You said in the statement that your father Stupefied you because of a duel.”</p><p>“And?” Draco raised his eyebrow towards him. He was growing short on patience and more importantly, on hope.</p><p>“Well, you never specified what the duel was about.”</p><p>Draco sighed heavily and looked down at his desk. Never in a million years did he think that he would be forced to explain his familial problems to the last person on Earth he wanted to explain them to.</p><p>“I took out my wand first because my father was disrespecting someone that I care for.”</p><p>“Was it Hermione?”</p><p>The audacity of such a personal question! Draco could feel himself getting warmer from frustration. He wanted to lash out and tell Potter off for having such an insane assumption, but he didn’t. He couldn’t figure out entirely why he was so bothered by his question, but then realized that it was because he were correct. It was about Hermione, but he didn’t want him to know that.</p><p>“That’s none of your bloody business, Potter.” Draco spoke, his voice low yet still firm to enforce his privacy.</p><p>“Fair enough,” Harry spoke, leaning back in his chair smugly. Harry was studying him, and Draco didn’t like it. “But let me ask just one thing— does <em>this person</em> that you care about know that your father mentions everyday to himself that he will disown you if you stay with them?”</p><p>“If I knew I were going to be interviewed like this, I would’ve done an actual crime in order to get a real and thorough interrogation,” Draco growled. Harry was unimpressed with his defiance, and it showed in the frown lines on his face. While Draco wasn’t intimidated by the man and his scowls, he did see the protectiveness that Harry had over the witch in a way that seemed like a brother protecting his sister. And so, he respected that. “No, <em>this person</em> doesn’t know.”</p><p>Harry’s face lightened a bit at the question, clearly confused as to what was the proper emotion to feel. Was he to be upset that Hermione didn’t know about something involving Draco’s life because of her presence in it? Or was he to be relieved that she hadn’t learned such devastating news that would sadden her even further?</p><p>“I know you were unsure about Astoria, which is why you waited until the last minute to call off the wedding, but—”</p><p>“You don’t know anything, Potter.” Draco interrupted, his voice low and solemn as he thought back on it. Sure, he was remorseful, but the one thing that triggered him most was that nobody, including himself sometimes, understood. Nobody except Hermione.</p><p>“Fine, but I do know that you’d never forgive yourself if you wait until the last minute to do the same thing with <em>this person</em>. I’m sure they rely on close friends for comfort when you aren’t around. Friends are probably all this person’s got.”</p><p>Draco’s heart began to race. <em>This person</em> was not just any ordinary soul. It was Hermione, and she was the one constant thing in his life right now that kept him going. The one thing in his life right now that he adored more than life itself. And no one saw that. No one saw the way they would hug and kiss when alone, or how hard he could get her to laugh to the point that she would snort when hearing old stories of his childhood. No one saw that he was actually happy. Perhaps it was because he didn’t show it, but Draco deeply felt that it was mostly because of his past. A former Death Eater who calls off an engagement and embarks on a journey of true love. It sounded ridiculous. Society saw it as ridiculous, and because of it, he felt that Harry wasn’t taking him seriously when it came to his friend. Nobody was. It was like the idea of happiness between them was so unfathomable and so doomed way before they even got the chance to get in the thick of it.</p><p>“Hermione’s got me, too.”</p><p>Draco wasn’t even concerned with the fact that he confessed to Harry, though indirectly, that he had feelings for Hermione. And soon, the butterflies came rushing back to attack, though he wished they didn’t. More than anything, he was nervous at his confession, hoping the wizard wouldn’t lash out and try to deter him immediately from pursuing her even more. But, instead, a faint smile appeared on the wizard’s face, though evaporated the longer he looked at Draco.</p><p>Harry leaned forward on his desk, preparing himself to talk to Draco in a way that he hadn’t done so before. He never talked about relationships much, with anyone other than Crabbe and Goyle. But with neither of them here, he had Blaise and Pansy every now and then, though it was more frequent now after he let them in on his secret, too. But to be having this discussion with Potter was not only uncomfortable— it was unwanted.</p><p>“Draco, if you release your father from his holding cell, it probably won’t be safe for neither you nor her. His prejudices run deep, and she needs to know about this. It’s only fair.”</p><p>“Damnit, you don’t think I know about my father? You don’t think I know how pissed off he is that I left him here for an entire month? I’m trying my fucking best, here,” Draco spoke, his voice trickled with pain and tension. Then, right as he found himself choked up a bit at the thought of everything weighing down on him, Draco remembered how adamant his father was about not showing emotion in public. At the thought, he tried his best to swallow away the lump in his throat, and faced Harry again. “I don’t want to tell her because…because…”</p><p>“Because you don’t want to lose her?” Harry saw the way a stillness came over the office at what he said. He wasn’t assuming anything of Draco, but merely stating what he knew he never would in his presence. And the fact that Draco sat there, calm and quiet, he knew he was right. “Just don’t hurt her. Please.”</p><p>“I’m not trying to. And I never intend to.”</p><p>From Draco’s assurance also came doubt from the man sitting across him. While Harry had forgiven Draco for the acts he’s done to him, he was still unsure of how his family would react to a Muggle-born witch stealing their son’s heart.</p><p> </p><p>After Harry accepted his appeal, without all the intricate details of why and who, Draco was left in the front of the Auror’s department. He had been here for some time, and hoped that nothing had happened to delay his father’s release, but with each passing moment, Draco sat rather impatiently. He wondered what his first encounter with his father outside of the holding cell would be like, and if he should’ve redacted his decision. Yet, those were just his nerves creeping up on him the more that time passed by. Would they hug? Draco could hardly remember the last time he hugged his father. Maybe when he was coming back from Hogwarts after his first year, his father embraced him slightly. But it was brief, and just as cold as his own words. Nothing worth remembering in positive light, that is. Draco’s thought began to plague him, his heart beginning to race the longer he was left alone, until he realized that he technically wasn’t. To the left of him was the secretary of the Auror department, Francis, who was tasked with alphabetizing some documents, but instead found herself watching Draco more than the work that she was assigned with. He thought he would’ve been used to the staring, by now, considering he was frequenting the Auror’s office a lot more than he would’ve liked to, but settled on the idea that as long as he were in the papers or in recent news, he would be a hot commodity.</p><p>From the right of him, Draco could hear the sound of footsteps nearing, and stood up when seeing Harry walking directly behind his frigid father. The older man was disheveled, his clothes tainted with smudged food stains and sweat marks here and there. But they were covered mostly by his winter coat. His eyes were reddened and exhausted-looking, though he didn’t give off the energy when he walked. He still held his head up high and dignified, looking straight ahead and at neither a witch nor wizard that passed him in the corridors. Draco took a few steps towards him, meeting him just as he were nearing the front of the department where Draco was waiting.</p><p>“Father, how are you feeling?” Draco asked, torn between not genuinely caring but also wanting to get a sense of where things were at in their relationship. And so, even though Draco spoke loud and clear enough for his father to hear him, the man simply continued walking without a word, nor a glimpse in his son’s direction, and let himself out of the department.</p><p>Draco didn’t exactly know what to expect out of his first meeting with his father since not seeing him last month, but he can’t say he wasn’t surprised. In fact, that was probably the best case scenario for the two of them. But still, Draco knew that he was still terribly upset. Harry appeared by Draco’s side for a moment, both of them stuck staring at the door that Lucius had walked out of.</p><p>“You alright?” Harry asked, genuine curiosity coming over him for the young man who was coldly snubbed by his father.</p><p>“It went a lot smoother than I thought it would.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Happy Christmas to all who celebrate and happy holidays as well! I decided to be a good elf and give you guys TWO Chapters (22 &amp; 23) for today, as my gift to you. :) You are all so lovely and supportive. I couldn’t ask for a better crew of people to help me progress on my writing journey. You are all so appreciated!! Stay beautiful, darlings! Xx—</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Narcissa has a difficult conversation with Draco after his father’s release and recounts her younger years with her sisters.</p>
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  <strong>NARCISSA</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>For someone who claimed to no longer care about the nature or well-being of their son, Lucius certainly did a ton of talking about him. For the past couple of days since his release, Narcissa had to become one with Lucius’ moods, as if she hadn’t already. There were moments when her husband would go dull and silent, straying away from all conversation about his month spent in the Ministry. Then there were moments where he would go on endlessly about how self-righteous and pompous their son were. Narcissa tried her best to keep a poker face to Lucius’ words, but there were many times where they would strike her in shock. She would then look at her husband and see no trace of the man she had grown to love. No trace of the man who she once saw as powerful and ingenious. Now, he was bitter and even more cold than he was years ago.</p><p>She tried not to think of her son, too much. Of course she worried for him, but she felt torn. Lucius was cross with him no matter what mood he was in; angry, saddened, etc. It all started with Draco, and it all ended with him, too. While Narcissa could see her husband’s point of view, she also understood Draco’s. He wasn’t like his father, despite mirroring him in appearance. He had a soft spot for people, and he was loving. Narcissa would never speak of it to Lucius, but she felt that Draco could’ve possibly been an entirely different person, had he not grown up with such hate in his heart. But still, though they differed on how to properly raise their child as far as their mannerisms, they still came to a mutual agreement on the importance of blood purity, which Lucius had no trouble in reminding her for the hundredth time, yet.</p><p>Narcissa was in the drawing room, her favorite place to be when needing a small holiday from her husband. She loved to throw herself into books or her garden, but with the rough, unapologetic Winter they had, she could not tend to it properly. At least she had her books. She was nose deep in the middle of information about magical beasts, a book Lucius had gifted her with contempt for her fortieth birthday. No matter where she looked, no matter where she turned in the large mansion that she lived in, she could not escape him. It didn’t bother her too much, considering she did marry a Malfoy and moved into the family’s manor, but today of all days as she waited for Lucius to tire himself out with his own thoughts and venting, she mostly waited to see her favorite Malfoy, of all.</p><p>Though, from the doorway, a sluggish shadow came into her peripheral, startling her so. She looked up and saw Lucius, his face not in his normal scowl or sneer, but rather saddened. Lonely. His eyes drew her in as a mother would when needing to comfort a crying child, and he sulked over towards her rather dramatically. This was his and Draco’s first spat, and he was clearly reeling over it.</p><p>“I’ve made up my mind.” Lucius spoke as he sat in the adjacent chair in the room. The fireplace crackled in the midst of their silence as Narcissa removed her reading glasses, getting a better view of her husband. In all the years she had been married to him, she had never seen him quite so unglued. She was fond of him being the alpha male he prided himself on being. But this was purely uncharacteristic.</p><p>“Oh?” Narcissa replied, complete curiosity surging within her at his declaration. She waited anxiously to hear the words she wanted to hear for days now, and felt her entire mood shift at what she thought were to come.</p><p>Lucius took one long, devastatingly hard look at his dear wife, and braced himself entirely for the backlash of his upcoming words. He was serious, and Narcissa knew this, but the longer he waited to speak, the more her positivity subsided and replaced itself with dread.</p><p>“I’ve decided that we no longer have a son.”</p><p>The heartbeat that had quickened from her nerves, skipped a few beats within Narcissa’s chest. She searched his eyes, hoping completely that this were a sick joke, and then remembered that her husband never joked. Neither a riddle nor pun ever came out of him, and so she knew instantly that he were serious. But, she didn’t want to believe it. How could a man turn his back on his own son? How could he loop her in on such a foul decision?</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucius,” Narcissa frowned, trying to turn back to her novel, though no longer focusing on it and replaying what he had just uttered. It took everything in her to not raise her voice or verbalize how worried she were about his thought process. Some part of her felt that maybe if she didn’t take him seriously, he would disregard he even said such a thing and went back to his wallowing. At this point, wallowing was better than the asinine conclusions he had managed to come up with. “He is your son, no matter what he does.”</p><p>“Yes, <em>your</em> son, the carrier of the Malfoy name. A deceitful blood traitor,” He started. Narcissa vowed not to entertain his train of thought, knowing somewhat where it would lead if she did. Actually, Narcissa didn’t know, and that was the worst of it all. Lucius’ moods were changing with each passing moment. She never knew what version of him she would get. “This is all your fault. I wanted him to go to Durmstrang! At least he would’ve interacted with no less than a Half-Blood.”</p><p>Narcissa slammed the book closed with force and stared at the man beside her. In addition to not acting like himself, he hardly looked like the same man. His face seemed even more aged than the last she had seen him, and when he had staggered home after his release, Narcissa almost didn’t recognize him, had it not been for his hair.</p><p>“We don’t even know if he’s with the girl, Lucius. Don’t be so quick.”</p><p>“But he very well could be,” Lucius stood up, towering over his wife like a mad man. His eyes were widened with fear at the sheer thought, and his mouth pressed in his powerful pout. “It is in your blood, after all.”</p><p>The words hit Narcissa’s mental very harshly, and cursed the tears that were appearing in her eyes from his insinuation. Why would he bring her sister up? What purpose did that serve as nothing other than ammunition to start a fight? Lucius knew that the topic of her surviving sister was something she never wanted to speak of for a number of reasons, but to throw her around as bait? Pathetic. She wanted to lash out at the man, administer him a sleeping draught and let her meeting with Draco go smoothly. And so, despite Lucius’ conniving words, she tried her best to change the subject.</p><p>“Come now, off you go. Draco will be here any moment.”</p><p>Lucius initially started towards the exit and then stopped in his tracks. He turned around to face his wife, a new look he harbored this time. He almost looked back to normal if Narcissa hadn’t known any better. But, she did. He was still just as irrational, even if he were bleak and lifeless.</p><p>“What will you two discuss? How you both are each other’s favourite Malfoy?”</p><p>It was true. Draco was Narcissa’s favourite Malfoy, and she was almost certain that she were his favorite, as well. A relationship so natural and pure such as hers with her son was something Narcissa knew angered Lucius for the past twenty-something years. But, that didn’t matter, now. She had to ignore his comment, otherwise it would get to her, much like everything else he had said this afternoon.</p><p>“I wanted to thank him in person for your release.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And? What do you mean ‘and’?”</p><p>“You can send him an owl for that. He does not need to come here.”</p><p>“Lucius, despite your attitude, I’ll have you know that he is just as much my son as he is yours, and I invited him here because as his mother, I want to see him, too. This is still his home, no matter what.”</p><p>Lucius pondered her words for a moment, an action that Narcissa had now dreaded. She feared she had said too much that would further trigger him, and knew this to be true as she saw the his face twist at something he imagined. He walked further into the drawing room, now, fiddling with his walking stick as he approached a painting of Draco when he were younger. He was about four in the portrait, donning his favorite color at the time—blue— and more importantly, sporting a smile that overtook his entire face. Narcissa couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and hoped that Lucius were too, but all hope was lost once she heard a scoff come from him as he stared.</p><p>“Tell him I want the key.” Lucius’ voice was low and menacing.</p><p>“What key, darling?”</p><p>“The key to his flat. He bought his new home with the money I’ve deposited into a joint account all these years. If he doesn’t want to respect me, then he can give back everything that I’ve given to him. I want him out by March.”</p><p>“Do you not hear yourself,” Narcissa pleaded as she rushed to her husband’s side. “You would rather our son be out in the cold in the dead of Winter?”</p><p>Lucius faced his wife slowly, the look in his eyes saying all that he needed to say in order to get his point across. Narcissa was silent as she stared at him, knowing she had been defeated in his orders. Lucius craned his neck to give one, haphazard look at the portrait of Draco, and soon left the drawing room.</p><p>Narcissa was all to herself now in the way that she originally had planned, but found the confines of the walls so much more dull after hearing everything that Lucius had said. She felt foolish for a moment for even thinking that Lucius would let go of his pride to welcome his son back in with an apology. Apparently Narcissa thought too highly of her husband to do something so respectable like that. The same tears that Narcissa had sent away resurfaced as she stood in total silence, her head flurried with all sort of thoughts. She just wanted her family back together again, but most of all she resented the day she sat down with Draco and had that conversation with him about love and marriage. Perhaps she was the root of it all, leaving her son confused about what marriage could be rather than what it truly was. And so, Narcissa made sure to bring up how she was sorry for putting such silly things such as “love” in his mind.</p><p>From behind her, green flames appeared in the drawing room as the tall young man stepped forward, dusting himself free of any floo powder and soot. When his eyes met his mother’s tired ones, Narcissa felt ashamed when seeing him rush over towards her with worry.</p><p>“Mummy, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”</p><p>It dawned on her then that Draco had never seen her cry until this very moment. How bare she felt in the company of her only child. It was a comforting yet uncomfortable feeling to endure.</p><p>“Oh, yes. Don’t mind me,” She smiled, walking over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you? How’s work?”</p><p>Narcissa watched her son shift his gaze to the tile on the floor, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He was uncomfortable, just like she were, and she knew how much he hated small talk, but small talk is all she could give him right now before she carried out his father’s vicious plan. Though from where Narcissa stood, it was clear to her that her son wanted no parts of side talk. Instead, he walked himself over to a seat in the drawing room, coincidentally taking the one his father just rose out of, and looked up at her.</p><p>“I was hoping we could be brief. I have to go back to work.”</p><p>The walk Narcissa took towards her chair near her son felt as though it would be her last. With Lucius’ thoughts still looming over her head, she found it rather difficult to take even the slightest glance at her son, despite desperately wanting to. She didn’t agree with Lucius nor Draco. She didn’t see how her husband could so easily kick his son out of his flat, despite the circumstances with which he bought it and she didn’t agree that Draco was possibly doing unthinkable acts with a Muggle-born. While it didn’t necessarily make her upset in the same way that Lucius expressed, it reopened old wounds that Narcissa thought she would have healed by now. But at the same time, she selfishly hoped that him being without a home would bring him back here. Perhaps she could finally get her family back.</p><p>“I wanted to thank you, Draco,” She spoke softly, the tears in her eyes threatening to run forward as she finally got the nerve to look at her son. There were traces of solemnity that haunted his face as he sat there. He was not slumped comfortably in a seat of his former home. Instead, he was sitting professionally as though he were in a business meeting. This was business to him, the same way it was business to her. “For releasing your father. He is grateful for it as well. I’m sure of it.”</p><p>A sly scoff came from Draco that nearly mimicked the one that came from Lucius earlier. Draco’s face had softened a bit, to Narcissa’s delight, but the delight soon wore off when she realized that he wasn’t any more relaxed than he used to be.</p><p>“I didn’t do it for him. I did it for you.” His confession stunned Narcissa, but she tried to force away that thought. She didn’t want to dive in any further and relive that day. She often tried to act like it never happened. If only she could tell what her willful ignorance did to the man sitting opposite her.</p><p>“I also wanted to apologize. I understand my part in this as well. None of this would have ever happened if I wouldn’t have brought up ‘love’ or love marriages to you. You would be happy…and married for already a month, now. I can’t help but feel so much guilt for my role in changing your heart.”</p><p>The young man swallowed as he studied his teary-eyed mother. She was still so consumed in her mindset, and Draco knew whole-heartedly that he would need a miracle to break her out of it. Yet, he didn’t. He knew that wasn’t his job to sway their opinions. They were adults with free will, just like he had. Whatever they chose to do, he could not fight them on it. No matter how much he disagreed. So, he simply decided that his time here was up, and that further pained Narcissa.</p><p>“Is that all?” His voice short and curt towards her in a way he had never been before. All of this was never as it once was. The defiance, his actions against his father and actions against what is right for a Pure-blood man. Narcissa couldn’t show it, but she was now a bit angry at her dismissive child all because he would no longer do or listen to what she said.</p><p>“No. Your father has taken it upon himself to feel that if you no longer want to follow through with his wishes as to not be a…uhm…blood traitor, then you must give back the keys to your flat by March, as a reimbursement.”</p><p>The silence that grew between them was so loud, with every word imaginable popping into her head to describe the look on Draco’s face at this moment. Fear, shame, worry, and contempt. It was all there, and all being put forth on his face by his furrowed brows, flared nostrils and quivering lip.</p><p>“He cannot do this. He gave the money to me.”</p><p>“And as it was technically a gift, he feels that it must be reimbursed.”</p><p>The frantic man began pacing the drawing room, searching for all the words that could describe just how haunted he felt by his father’s decision that were being spoken by his mother. Then, it all made sense.</p><p>“You agree with him, don’t you?” Draco growled. Narcissa stood up, both trying to calm her angered son and also assert herself as the parent.</p><p>“I think it is fair.” She nodded as she reached out to touch his lapel. If she couldn’t talk to her son, she wanted to be able to know he were still tangible. And he was, even though he were angry. But from her touch, Draco swiped her hands away gently.</p><p>“You’re co-signing with him as he tries his best to destroy me. And for what? Out of complete spite.”</p><p>“Draco, you’re not taking the time to understand where we are coming from, even though I completely understand you.”</p><p>“You know what, I really wish people would stop telling me that they understand. You don’t understand! The only reason why I released him from his holding cell wasn’t because I gave a damn about him or because I was remorseful in disrespecting him, if you can even call it that. I did it because I care about you! And yet you stand here and claim to understand where I’m coming from when you don’t! What’s fair about me being tossed out in the street, mother? Nothing! You’d rather punish me for my own happiness just because you couldn’t keep your sister around! I’m old enough to know what and who I want and I won’t let that go. Not for father, not for you, and not for anyone else! I refuse to be guilted into leaving behind my own happiness for your peace of mind!”</p><p>The two Malfoys stared at each other as Draco’s chest rose and fell from his shouts. From how loud his voice got, Narcissa hoped dearly that Lucius wouldn’t come forward and do something unthinkable to his frustrated child. She thought back on how Lucius would spank Draco just at the start of a temper tantrum, a cry, or even a small pout. He was a strict father from early on, and she knew this, but she never knew how much his upbringing plagued him until now. Here was her son, only twenty-four, and he was shaken to his core from things that had been done, told, and expected of him since then. Seeing his fists clenched and shaky, she stared at her son, recognizing the tears that had streamed down his face and trickled onto his chin. Narcissa took a step towards him, her heart aching from the sight, but felt it tear in two as he took a step away from her.</p><p> The action stunned Narcissa into stillness. There was nothing to be heard but her own beating heart. She didn’t understand what her son saw in the Muggle-born witch, and while he hadn’t even mentioned her name, she knew that her presence in his life played a major role in how he was thinking, and how everything was so easily vomited out into the air.</p><p>And so, without another word to his mother, Draco disapparated right before his mother’s solemn eyes, leaving her visibly shaken. Narcissa stood for a moment, and then rushed to her seat as she became overwhelmed with grief. She had lost Andromeda for her own choices, and now she was losing her son to the same.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Summer 1972</em>
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  <em>The rough winds of that Summer evening pushed the young witch and wizard inside the front door of 12 Grimmauld Place. The house, which was quiet and unassuming with the exception of her father’s muffled yet still loud voice being heard from up the stairs. Narcissa basked in the aloneness that she shared with Lucius. He was quite good-looking even when he wore a frown more often than he did smile. But when he did manage a grin or two, especially when they were together, Narcissa relished in its handsomeness and knew that it were only a matter of time before Lucius would ask her for her hand, if he found her suitable. But so far he did. She dreamt of how happy the family would be at her accomplishment— marrying into the ancient and notable Malfoy family. She dreamt of the life she would share with him and the children she would bear Lucius. But for now, it remained only a dream. </em>
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  <em>Narcissa and Lucius linked hands, one of her favorite things to do as a couple. They had only ever kissed twice, considering they were still so fresh with dating. But that was more than enough for her. She cherished each moment imaginable with Lucius, and felt particularly lucky to have been chosen by him as they went steady. Except, they stopped when hearing someone coming down the stairs. </em>
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  <em>The two teens switched their attention to the nearby staircase, seeing Bellatrix make herself known to the young couple. From where she stood, Narcissa could see the menacingly bothered look she bore on her face as she approached them. Her eyes were focused on Narcissa, but flipped to Lucius out of habit. </em>
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  <em>“Run along now, Lucius.” Bella shooed without a single ‘hello’ or ‘thank you’ for bringing her baby sister home safely. Yet, she had grown particularly used to Bellatrix’s random spurts of cruelty, unfortunately. Lucius merely gulped when seeing Bellatrix, and turned to Narcissa who was dreading his departure already. He leaned forward and planted a delicate kiss on her cheek, which was enough for the older sister to nearly push him out of the door with disgust. </em>
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  <em>“Ugh, whatever do you see in him?” Bellatrix’s question was of genuine curiosity. To her, he was too stuffy and proud for her gentle but strong-willed sister. She knew that they would bump heads probably every chance they could get, but still, Narcissa saw something in him that other people didn’t. A small trace of kindness every now and then that let her believe there was hope and love somewhere within the frigid man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bella why must you ask me that every time you see him? I just want to settle in and enjoy a cup of tea,” Narcissa spoke as she turned away from her sister, and started into the kitchen. Kreacher was standing there diligently and just as obedient. He had heard her initial request before she even spoke it to him, and without a word, he was putting the pot on to boil. “Thank you, Kreacher.”</em>
</p><p><em>“I always ask because every time I see him, the question just forms.” Bellatrix grinned, knowing she were rubbing her sister the wrong way intentionally.</em> </p><p><em>“Hush,” Narcissa spoke. “There’s so much more to him than you could ever know.”</em> </p><p><em>“Well, if you’re smart, you’ll marry him. At least he’s a Pure-Blood. Maybe you could even give some advice to Andi, while you’re at it.” Bellatrix called as she followed closely behind her sister. The words that had so easily confused the young witch then sank further into her mind.</em> </p><p>
  <em>“What do you mean?”</em>
</p><p><em>Bellatrix stalked over, a snarl on her face as she fixed herself to reveal the devastating news. </em> </p><p>
  <em>“Andi’s marrying that bloke Ted Tonks.” Her voice in a shrill whisper. The thought, so unspeakable was even more menacing when coming from her stern older sister. And so, without a chance to sip some tea, Narcissa raced up the stairs. The corridor was long and dark, even more so given the news, and on her way to Andromeda’s bedroom, Narcissa could hear her mother and father having a discussion about what to do with their daughter. </em>
</p><p><em>“I say we just let her go! If she wants to be with the man, then so be it! She is of age and we cannot stop her!” Druella growled from inside one of the bedrooms. </em> </p><p><em>“You’d rather have a daughter as a blood traitor or not have a daughter at all?” Cygnus shouted furiously.</em> </p><p><em>An overwhelmingly nauseating feeling settled in the pit of Narcissa’s stomach at the words her parents spoke. She was partially disgusted with the way they could so easily give up their daughter, but was just as disgusted at her sister and her apparent choice. </em> </p><p>
  <em>Reaching the bedroom, Narcissa pushed her way in, her eyes searching for Andi and instead landed on her bed that was messy with nothing but clothes and her personal items laying about. Her bags were nearby, though empty and stretched wide open for easy and quicker packing. Narcissa couldn’t stop the shakiness she felt within her as she pieced it all together. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was true. Her favorite sister was leaving her.</em>
</p><p><em>Andromeda appeared from her closet, stopping abruptly when seeing Narcissa. The young adult gave a guilty smile to counter Narcissa’s shock, but knew she wouldn’t get anywhere far with it. So, the young woman didn’t speak to her sister, having found it rather difficult to do so, and began folding the clothes she had on her bed. </em> </p><p><em>A deep betrayal overcame Narcissa at the action. Did Andi not care? Did she not see her sister standing there and felt her decision could possibly be wrong? She was angry with her, and not in the petty ways that she had been angry with either of them before. She wasn’t angry because she took her favourite hair brush. She wasn’t angry because she ate the last sweet that she had been saving. No, she was angry because the one thing she didn’t want to believe about her sister proved to be true. </em> </p><p><em>“Where are you going?” Narcissa managed to blurt out, hoping to get a reaction out of her sister. Andromeda simply ignored her, continuing to push clothes and clothes into the bag, this time not caring enough to fold them. Her actions were much quicker now, as though the guilt continued to rain down on her from the question. </em>Good,<em> Narcissa thought. She wanted her sister to feel guilty for what she was doing to her family. “Did you not hear me?”</em></p><p><em>Andromeda turned around quickly to face her baby sister, a look of annoyance trickling into her face and in her demeanor. Narcissa and Andromeda both knew the answer to the question, but she felt that if it gave her any satisfaction, she would have to tell her.</em> </p><p><em>“I’m going to spend a few weeks at Ted’s house. It’s just for a little while.” </em> </p><p><em>“No it’s not just for a little while. Don’t lie to me and tell me it’s only for a little while!” Narcissa shouted. Andromeda stared into her sister’s pained face, genuine sorrow encompassing her from how upset she was. And so, she sat on her bed and stared at her hands. </em> </p><p>
  <em>“I wanted to leave while you were still out with Lucius. I didn’t want you to see me go.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why? Because you knew I’d try to stop you,” Narcissa asked. She rushed to her sister’s side, grabbing her hand in hers. While she was able to forgive her for her poor judgment, she knew their parents couldn’t possibly let this go so easily. But, Narcissa felt that if she tried hard enough, begged and pleaded for Andromeda’s sake, that maybe their parents would recount their decision. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to marry him, Andi.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Narcissa watched Andromeda’s face turn sour from her words as tears began to fall. She had started to sob a bit, but knew that more than anything if this were the last time she were going to see her precious sister, she owed her an explanation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m marrying him because I love him, Cissa.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love. What an odd thing to marry for. Ted Tonks had no name in the Wizard world. He was not wealthy, nor well-known. He was not the most handsome wizard in the world, and on top of all of that, he was not a Pure-Blood. How on Earth could Andromeda find love in him? Why would that even matter? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t just break up your family over a Mud-Blood, Andi. You’re supposed to love us, not the other kind! We’re your blood!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Andromeda stood up and walked from her sister to the other side of her bed, tossing more clothes in her bag. It was clear that Andromeda had made up her mind, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she could do was sit on her sister’s bed, watch her prepare herself to leave, and do nothing. </em>
</p><p><em>“I love you both.” Andromeda choked out, zipping up one duffel bag and then moving to the other. Narcissa didn’t understand this. How could she claim to love them both, and yet not be loyal to them? That wasn’t love. None of it was. </em> </p><p><em>“If you walk out of the door, mum and dad will never let you back in. They’ll disown you from the family! Please don’t go!” Narcissa bellowed out her pleas as she rushed back to her sister, her arms wrapped tightly around the young woman’s frame. At this point, Narcissa didn’t care to make anymore points about why she should stay. Right now, she just focused on not wanting her to leave. Andromeda managed to drop her clothes at the warmth of her sister’s hug, and turned around, meeting her embrace with an equally tight one. While Narcissa loved having her sister this close to her, feeling protected in her arms, she knew that her decision would remain the same, nonetheless. Therefore, she found herself equal parts saddened and bitter by her sister’s choices. </em> </p><p>
  <em>A creak came from the bedroom door, though Narcissa couldn’t see who entered through Andromeda’s thick, brown locks. Slow footsteps came towards them, and soon the sisters were pulled apart from the magic of their older sister, Bellatrix. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Narcissa, who was now on the floor, stood in shock at what she had done. She knew that once Bellatrix had found out about Andromeda and Tonks after a casual run-in last year in Hogsmeade, the older witch no longer tolerated her presence. Bellatrix, having found out about the two, came rushing to their parents with the news, though Andromeda denied it. In secret, the sisters discussed what really happened, and Andromeda promised to try to stay away from Tonks. Clearly that promise was short-lived. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Narcissa moved herself into a corner of Andromeda’s room as she saw Bellatrix’s wand out. Andromeda, not fearing her sister, steadied herself and faced her bravely without her wand. </em>
</p><p><em>“Stay away from the blood- traitor, Cissy,” Bellatrix warned. “I hear it’s contagious.”</em> </p><p><em>“Ah, hello Bellatrix. How’s your loveless marriage?” Andromeda snapped, turning away from the elder witch to continue tossing her clothing in it. </em> </p><p>
  <em>“Better than yours if you still plan on marrying Tonks,” Bellatrix spoke, appearing at her sister’s side. “A non-Slytherin, penniless Mud-blood. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t you dare say anything about him!” Andromeda called out, turning to face her sister once more, this time with her wand pointed at her hardened face. </em>
</p><p><em>“Fine. Then I’ll say it all about you,” Bellatrix insisted as she pushed Andromeda’s wand away as though it were a meaningless fly. “You’re selfish and insecure. You fear the power that a true, honorable Pureblood man holds. You had Nott as a suitor and turned him down for filth. You’re a weak disgrace to the Black family name and to the Dark Lord, himself.”</em> </p><p><em>“As if I could give a fuck about the Dark Lord.” Andromeda bit in regards to her sister’s words. Narcissa knew, from where she sat on the floor, that this couldn’t possibly end well. And so she watched as Bellatrix drew her wand and poked it firmly at Andromeda’s throat. </em> </p><p><em>“You’d be surprised at all the fun new unforgivable curses I’ve learned from him, Andi. It’d be wise to remain careful around me. I could use the practice.”</em> </p><p>
  <em>“Stop it! Please!” Narcissa screamed as tears stung her eyes. She rushed to her older siblings as the tension grew between them, Andromeda now pressing her wand to Bellatrix’s throat as well. With all her force, Narcissa managed to push Bellatrix away from Andromeda, causing her to fall back. Now, Bellatrix’s eyes were focused on her youngest, damning her silently for breaking up the would-be duel. And through the stares, Narcissa watched as Andromeda shoved the remainder of her items quickly into her second bag, and soon grabbed all her belongings, and rushed out of the bedroom. </em>
</p><p><em>“Good luck coming back!” Bellatrix shouted as she then steadied herself, her eyes glaring at her youngest and now only sibling she recognized. Narcissa tried to clear her eyes of any tears, not wanting to show her weakness to her. Though, she could hardly help it. Her sister was gone quite possibly for the rest of her life, and she never felt more alone. Narcissa trembled at the sight of her sister nearing her, and though she would never admit it, Bellatrix intimidated her greatly. Yet, she didn’t have to admit it. It was written all over her face. </em> </p><p><em>“I may not be your favourite sister, but I’m the only sister you’ve got now,” Bellatrix started, her face cold and devoid of any emotion other than disgust which was now aimed at Narcissa. “You must promise me that you won’t ever become a blood-traitor like Andie. You or your children, and even then, their children.” </em> </p><p>
  <em>Narcissa stared at her sister. She didn’t want to be bothered with any more talk of blood-traitors or Muggles nor Muggle-borns. The only thing she wanted to do was grieve Andromeda’s departure. But still, even in sadness, she held onto her anger. And so she wiped her tears away, stopped all of her sobbing and let all her emotions tuck themselves away for a later date. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I promise.” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello! And Happy Christmas! If you haven’t read the ending notes for Chapter 22, I posted both that chapter and this one back-to-back for Christmas as my gift to my loyal and devoted readers! I’m so happy I got the chance to put forth this chapter, especially. I always wanted to dive into more of how Narcissa thought and felt about the rift between Lucius and Draco, and how it ties in to her past with her sister, Andromeda. I think Narcissa is such a complex character, having two sisters on complete opposing viewpoints while she’s, frankly, stuck in the middle. One is a staunch Death Eater, the other is marrying a Muggle. Imagine how she must feel knowing that History is repeating itself, but this time with her son! Things are starting to get stickier, and I can’t wait to tackle how this will flow into Dramione’s relationship in the upcoming chapter. As always, thank you all so kindly for listening to my voice and giving me kudos and words of encouragement/comments. It’s one of the best Christmas gifts I’ve received. Xx NEXT UPDATE: 12/28–</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco reaches a breaking point with everything he’s been juggling and internalizing, and the couple have a romantic night out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It had become an awful habit of his to procrastinate entering his flat. Draco would stand there in the silence of the hallways, surrounded by mirrors that reflected his apprehensive image. He was waiting, but he did not yet know what for. The uncertainty of nearly everything revolving around him in his life had once loomed over his head in an intrusive fashion, and soon nestled in the pits of his stomach. Draco hadn’t eaten much lately, simply out of not having the appetite to even eat. The only thing that had begun to sustain him were his mother’s voice that preached his father’s words to him far too easily. At first, when Draco had left Malfoy Manor after their ghastly fight, he was upset. He damned his father for having such an influence on his own mother to the point where he would feed her every nasty line to regurgitate back to him. Then, the more Draco thought about it, he grew upset in a different way. He concluded that if his mother hadn’t agreed with his father, then she wouldn’t have said it. And here she was, taking the blame for introducing the false “normality” of love marriages to him. How strange.</p><p>Draco’s contempt for his father had been long brewing for some time now, never leaving much room for anything much besides that when it came to him. Yet, with his mother, there was always love. There was always tenderness for her. Now? Not so much. He loved her, of course, but he knew that if he wanted to be happy, he had to put himself first. And so he did, and he was happier, though it wasn’t always present. But most days, he felt as though by repaying his father for his flat was, by all means, punishment for having an individual thought unlike their own. Yes, that’s exactly what it was. Punishment for treating people the way they needed to be treated—with respect. Regardless of what they thought of him, it no longer mattered. Despite how upset he were about the whole ordeal, Draco still wasn’t prepared to live his life without his mother so easily.</p><p>Every time he had finished work, he would go to Blaise and Pansy’s house where he unintentionally confessed his problems to them in a drunken stupor, or out for a walk so that he come stumbling home either intoxicated or too tired to even think much about his flat, or the constant reminder that his home was now a pay-off to Lucius for his existence. But today, Draco could hear Hermione’s words in the back of his mind, reminding him of his brave task, and felt silly for considering it such. Home was once something that everyone cherished and turned to so easily during moments of trouble, but now Draco only saw it as the root of his problems, among other things.</p><p>So, just like other days when he came home sober, Draco found himself standing there in the hallway with a firm grip on the cold brass doorknob. A small wave of goosebumps crossed the young man just from the touch, and he dreaded every moment of it. <em>Just do it</em>, he nearly begged himself. he would have to do it eventually, but his overthinking took precedence just like it did often. Soon, as though the wind gave him a physical boost of confidence, Draco opened the door and stood inside. His flat no longer seemed welcoming like he had once thought it did. It was cold and dreary, resembling more of a cave than actual luxury. Everything was still and lifeless, his ears deafened by the lack of sound that he once found so comforting. The only thing that could be heard were his thoughts.</p><p>Draco closed the door behind him and tried to steady his racing heart, his eyes fixated on the spot where his mother last was during her impromptu visit. And then, they moved to his couch where he and Hermione started their night back in December that led them to where they were today. Too many thoughts engulfed the young man as he rushed to the nearest window and opened it as he let his lungs fill with the fresh air of the evening sky. Draco felt that if he couldn’t get the strength to go to his bedroom, he would at least stay by the window. At least this were another place that held a precious memory.</p><p>Draco closed his eyes, nearly hearing the pops and crackles of the fireworks from New Year’s Eve just as he had kissed Hermione. He used to be careful about certain words, especially the word perfect, considering it had been thrown around so effortlessly by his family, but knew that it was the ideal way to describe that night. It was only fair and above all, it was true. He had to admit that he missed her, only getting a few moments to mingle at the Minsitry briefly before they had to go their own ways. Draco hated how uncomfortable he had been around her. Since his conversation with Potter after Lucius’ release, he knew it was only fair to tell Hermione, but the idea of losing her hit him as far too great of a risk to take. And so, he hoped that his misfortune would soon work itself out before he came to Hermione to confess anything this monumental. Perhaps he would get the chance to prove himself worthy enough during the next round of interviews at Hogwarts. Maybe, in due time, things could all work out in his favour.</p><p>Breathing in the fresh air helped to soothe Draco in his moment of panic, though not entirely taking his mind off of the task at hand. Still, he appreciated the moment that he did have of sheer rest in the midst of such a crowded headspace. The young man opened his eyes slightly, his eyes meeting the darkness of the town outside of his window, and then landing on a brown entity moving in the night sky.</p><p>Slowly pushing himself away from the window, his eyes widened upon noticing it were an owl heading straight into his window. The owl, quite unfamiliar to him, first landed on his couch to drop the note on the furniture, and soon repositioned himself to the window sill.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mr. Malfoy,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would like to thank you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For your interest in the Potions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Professor position. At this time,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I regret to inform you that we</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Have chosen to pursue other</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Applicants. Thank you kindly</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Again for your interest.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wishing You well,</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Minerva McGonagall.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A wave of emotions crossed him once more that night, but this time no longer panicked and worried. It was all frustration. Pure intense, consuming frustration. It was almost laughable at how his luck was running out so close to one another. He was losing his family, his flat, and now, a job offer that he really wanted. In his frustration, Draco crumbled the letter in his hands and shooed off the owl. He knew that McGonagall was disinterested in him because of his past, despite how understanding she seemed when they had last spoke, and he knew his parents were disappointed in him for every move he was making. Now, Draco couldn’t help but feel upset with himself, as well. To him, it felt like he were getting the years worth of karma bestowed upon him for being completely insufferable in his younger years. And for a moment, as the theory soon became true to him, Draco accepted it for what it were. Maybe he didn’t deserve nice things or happiness. Maybe he didn’t deserve his nice flat, or a pat on the back from his mum and dad for being a Blood-traitor.</p><p>Just when Draco had begun to get consumed by his uncertainties, the only thing he was sure of in this moment was the young woman he had been starting to grow attached to. And so, Draco was now certain that he needed to go see her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>—-</p><p>For some reason, Draco liked Hermione’s building better than his own. Sure, he had a nice, big flat (that would soon belong to his father), but Hermione’s building had life. She actually had neighbors that he could hear. He knew this because while he stood outside her door, debating whether or not to knock, he could hear a father reprimand a young child nearby to put down his toy broom. The child, in typical adolescent fashion, defied his father, and then he could no longer hear a thing. But regardless of that, Draco admired it. He used to feel alone sometimes back at home, even though he did appreciate his solitude. It wasn’t until now, though, that he realized all he did was buy a smaller version of Malfoy Manor. How predictable. But the sound of other life and people living next door did add a more homey feeling. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he enjoyed being here so much.</p><p>Once all sound from the other surrounding flats had ceased, Draco was officially left with his thoughts and the navy blue door he stood at. He wondered if now would be the ideal time to let her know about his father and the nature of their relationship, despite how nervous he were to tell her. He also wondered what would be the result. Was now even appropriate to dump such things on her instead of his main issues? Either way, one of his body parts would have to move, whether it be his fist knocking on the door, or his legs to walk away. Except, none of his actions mattered at all when he stood there in total stillness as Hermione’s door began to open all of a sudden.</p><p>Draco’s heart stopped at the action, and Hermione jumped when seeing him. With the door wide open, Draco caught a whiff of the delicious cuisine that she was making. Some sort of stew, he figured, which was perfect for the winter evening. The young woman smiled suddenly at the surprise and put her hand on her hip as she studied her handsome beau.</p><p>“Hey! I knew someone was outside! Crookshanks just wouldn’t stop hissing at the door,” Her voice, like perfect sweet treats, was warm and inviting towards him, and she hadn’t even done so yet. Draco had planned out a whole speech in his head, starting with the rejection letter from McGonagall, and possibly trickling into the details of his father. But when seeing her, all he could do was stare. She was messily comfortable in her house clothes, and Draco loved every minute of it, even if his face didn’t show it. He hadn’t realized how haggard he looked until noticing how concerned Hermione got after close analysis of him. “Draco, what’s the matter?”</p><p>Draco opened his mouth to speak his truth to the woman. He wanted everything to come out. He wanted her to know everything, he wanted to articulate everything to himself, but as he tried stood there, trying, he just couldn’t make a sound. Hermione quickly looped her arm in with his and brought Draco inside her flat. The delectable aromas nearly smacked him in the face even harder this time. Crookshanks was standing nearby as if also studying the out-of-sorts blond man. But once stepping inside, Draco finally understood how warm her house was. While it didn’t have the latest, most expensive appliances or furniture, it was home to her. Decorated with love and care.</p><p>Hermione brought Draco down to her sofa and rushed to her kitchen, fixing him some water. As he sat, Crookshanks came over as well and jumped on the couch. His relationship with the feline had been particularly hot and cold for some time now. Hermione always said they needed the chance to get to know one another, while Draco honestly wondered when that would be. But from Crookshanks taking the first step, he wondered if the cat noticed that he was all over the place. Footsteps came from behind him as Hermione graced the living room with her presence and a tall cup of ice water. Even though she handed it to him, Draco didn’t drink it. He was so numb to everything going on around him, and threatened himself diligently to stay unemotional to it all.</p><p>“Are you alright?” She asked, a hand resting on his lap. Clearly he wasn’t, but he had no way of telling her that. The desperate loneliness that stirred within him had subsided once he saw her face, but he had the utmost trouble with articulating himself. Draco feared coming off as a failure to the one person he cared about tremendously, and aside from that, he simply was not ready. It felt like a wave would crash and bring forth more emotions, and then take them all away before he could even process them. He was no longer only frustrated, he was embarrassed, angry, and devoid of all hope. His coping mechanisms were now defense mechanisms, and the more he tried to ignore them, the harder they attacked.</p><p>Feeling off, Draco placed the glass of water on the coffee table and faced Hermione, his eyes glistening with all the pain he had been keeping to himself. And without thinking, Hermione leaned forward and embraced him. For a moment, Draco simply sat there, unsure what to do with such a gesture through the tears, but the warmth from her body and how safe he felt in her arms gave him only one other thing to do. He slowly raised his arms and hugged her back, his arms gripping onto her as though he would never let go. He didn’t want to. He let his mind take over once again, and felt ashamed for having let his tears flow so easily. This was the most comfort he had ever been given in his entire life, something he never knew he needed. And he had it all right here with her.</p><p>To his dismay, Hermione broke the hug and cupped his face in her hands with a strained look encompassing her. Without a single word spoken, Draco stared back into her beautiful browns. She wasn’t searching for anything, but more or less trying to present something to him. An unspoken gift of some sort— Herself. She gave herself to him in emotion, in touch, and in solidarity for a problem she didn’t press him on sharing, but allowed him to release all that was tied up within him.</p><p>And so he took it.</p><p>He shifted on the couch a bit and then found himself laying on Hermione’s lap with Crookshanks accompanying the couple silently. He closed his eyes as her delicate fingers stroked his hair gently in an attempt to soothe him from his pain, but it only helped him cry a little more. He was grateful for it, however, knowing that this was something he needed to release. And above of all else, he was grateful for her reaction to his silent doom. He had tried a few times to be as emotional as Astoria wanted him to be, but to no avail. It was no fault to her; he just wasn’t entirely comfortable doing it. But with Hermione, although it were difficult, he felt better in doing so. She was so gentle and attentive to him in ways that nobody else had been really. Draco then felt something different overtake him. It wasn’t a thought or a contemplation, but rather a deep, encompassing feeling about the girl who calmed him in this moment. He was not sure what life had in store for him at this point, but he knew that no matter what, he wanted Hermione to be apart of it. He had to stop wasting time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>VALENTINE’S DAY</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A dull pain had shot through the soles of the young woman’s feet, and up the back of her legs. Along the cobblestone pavement, she stumbled a bit, nearly coming face-to-face with the ground before strong hands gripped her tightly to steady her. Hermione cursed the fact that she had chosen heels to wear out tonight, even though she looked immaculate in her attire. She had donned a red dress to add to the cliché of the love-themed holiday, and paired it with some black pumps. Though she loved how sexy she felt in her outfit choice, she hoped dearly that she wasn’t over dressed. Ever since Valentine’s Day was coming up and she and Draco agreed on spending it out, he would never tell her what it was. Instead, he prided himself on keeping this secret for the past couple of days. As they walked, Hermione turned to look at the handsome man, seeing a subtle yet still excited smirk on his face as they walked. It was good seeing him in this light. Draco hadn’t spoken a word when he came over to her house unexpectedly that night, and she decided that she didn’t want to push him any further on it. She hoped silently that he would be able to easily talk to her one day about what it was that bothered him so. But for now, she loved how he was smiling.</p><p>Just as she had gotten taken away by the thought of that night, Hermione stumbled again, cursing to herself as Draco’s hands grabbed her for the umpteenth time that night. She loved the air of mystery that he gave off with his plans, but if he wouldn’t tell her what they were doing, she hoped they were nearing it soon.</p><p>“How much farther?” She asked as she tucked some hair away from her face.</p><p>“Almost there. I promise.” He spoke as he held her close through their coats. As they continued, Hermione noticed that they were moving further and further away from crowds of people, and into the darker parts of the streets where there wasn’t much life stirring about.</p><p>Soon, Draco’s steps began slower and he stood in front of an old and abandoned record shop. ‘Endless Sounds’ had unfortunately come to an end, as it seemed. But what confused her the most was how this was where he wanted to take her. Just when she was about to question his motive and make a sly joke about this being her last Valentine’s Day, or day altogether, a tall man came from outside of the shop. He was wearing fancy dress robes and a golden brooch on his lapel that Hermione could hardly see. As the man stalked closer to them, Hermione gripped onto Draco’s arm, a feeling of uncertainty crossing her with his presence.</p><p>“Name?”</p><p>“Draco. Draco Malfoy.”</p><p>The man eyed them both and stepped to the side, the record shop gaining light from a few dim and churning out candles. The shop was empty and desolate, even though there was a faint mumbling sound that could be heard from deeper inside the walls. Draco took confidence strides with Hermione’s hand in his as he led her to the back of the store. There were stairs just off to the left that led to a basement area, where as they stepped down, the mumbling grew louder.</p><p>Draco, leading the way, reached a door and knocked twice, back-to-back and then finished off with a single one. The door swung open, revealing a Maitre D who smiled widely at Draco and then looked behind him at Hermione. Hermione, who was still in the tight stairway, couldn’t see anything on the other side of the door, except for the woman who poked her head out to get a count for the party.</p><p>“Hello and Welcome to The Tipsy Wand. May I get the name for the reservation?”</p><p>“Draco Malfoy.”</p><p>“Perfect and thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Would you and Mrs. Malfoy like a seat while you both wait?”</p><p>Draco turned to look at Hermione who was already flushed red from the assumption. Evidently she had seen the article article announcing his engagement, but hadn’t read the follow-up. And so, seeing the wild eyes and grin that Draco had from her words, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh.</p><p>“We’re not quite to the nuptials stage, yet, but sure, we’ll love a seat.”</p><p>“Oh…I’m. I’m so sorry. I just thought—”</p><p>“No need to explain. Trust me, it would be easier if you didn’t.” Draco smiled, trying to not make the young witch feel any more embarrassed than she probably already did.  </p><p>Draco stepped inside and turned to grab Hermione’s hand as she finished coming down the stairs and passing the doorway. The restaurant was gorgeous, with all red and gold décor all about in the fancy restaurant. Near the back of the restaurant on a stage was the ghost of a woman dressed in vintage attire and singing a sultry, jazzy melody to set the ambience of the restaurant. While it wasn’t crowded, it wasn’t empty, either. Hermione wondered if it was because Valentine’s Day landed on a Monday this year, or if it were because of the exclusivity of the restaurant.</p><p>The couple were seated nearby the entrance and given some champagne as they waited. For a moment, Hermione didn’t speak. She was too entranced by the beauty of the restaurant. She had never seen anything like this before, and had never been to an underground restaurant that seemed so secretive. This was definitely worth the few stumbles she had taken on their way here.</p><p>“This place is magnificent.” Hermione remarked, beaming at her date. “How did you even find this?”</p><p>“A few of the guys from work were talking about it and so I had to do my own research. Apparently this place used to be very popular back in the 20’s. It was an old record store upstairs, and down here is where different artists would perform. But, a fire broke out one day and the place was destroyed,” Draco explained. He inched closer to Hermione and turned her to the ghost singing on the stage. “That there is Gilda Fern. She was a singer who perished in the fire. But when her daughter grew up, she remodeled the whole place just so that she could see her mother again in a space that wasn’t complete ash. It’s been around since 1952.”</p><p>A small sadness grew inside Hermione from the history, but it was hard to see this place as once up in flames. It was far too gorgeous to even fathom.</p><p>“I hope you’re not freaked out.” Draco nudged when realizing she was speechless.</p><p>“I think it’s lovely, Mr. Malfoy.” She smirked and nudged him back.</p><p>Soon, the maitre d’ came back with a cheerful grin and two menus in her hands.</p><p>“We’re ready for you, now.” She spoke to the couple. Hermione and Draco stood up in unison, though he stepped to the side with a mischievous grin.</p><p>“After you, <em>Mrs. Malfoy.</em>” He teased.</p><p> </p><p>The night wore on between the couple as they dined and talked amongst themselves. Hermione, still in awe at how beautiful the restaurant was, felt that Draco truly outdid himself with bringing her here. He knew she was a history buff, but it felt good to be handed something that she didn’t already know. She often found herself looking into his eyes tonight, seeing the genuine happiness that he held within him from being with her, and she hoped that he could see the same. Shortly after they had finished their delectable meals, Hermione watched as their waitress came over to remove their plates.</p><p>“Can I get you anything else for tonight?” She asked as the two plates levitated beside her. “Perhaps something sweet for the lovely couple?”</p><p>Draco looked at Hermione who was mulling over a decision on the dessert menu and sent her away momentarily so that they could decide. Yet, through her decisions, Hermione caught Draco staring at her as she peered ever so slightly over the menu. He blushed and tried to play it off by looking away quickly, but Hermione could read him a little bit better now. And so, a small smile crossed her face but then dissipated as curiosity crossed her once again. She loved the time that she had been spending with her beau, but more than anything she wanted to know more of what she could expect from their growing connection. And so, she momentarily placed the dessert menu down and looked at the man sitting across from her.</p><p>“What are you thinking?” She asked, finding his attempts at playing coy to be all the more amusing, especially when she brought it up to him.</p><p>“Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just a blank slate, really.” He shrugged. Hermione studied him for a moment and rested herself on the table just a bit. She narrowed her eyes at her date, searching for something in him, and finding it in a heartbeat.</p><p>“You’re contemplating something.”</p><p>“I’m just thinking about dessert, which you still haven’t decided on yet.” He smirked, pointing to the dessert menu. Hermione grimaced a bit at his way of deflecting. She was trying to get the nerve to ask him about the nature of their relationship now that it’s been over a month since their last conversation about it, and all he could think of at the time was dessert.</p><p>“Draco, I think we really need to have this conversation. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about what it is that we want. Because I…you know…I wouldn’t mind dating you seriously or having a title to how close we are but—”</p><p>“Hermione, I love that you’re so focused on this, I really am, but I need you to please pick a dessert. The waitress is coming back.”</p><p>An uncomfortable feeling washed over Hermione. This was unlike him to not want to hear what she was saying. Was she that indecisive to the point where he now felt like he had to rush her to make certain choices? Was she somehow annoying him with her presence? Normally he was so attentive and reassuring about a lot when it came to her. But now he was just acting so strange. Once the waitress came back to their table, she grinned widely at the couple, which annoyed Hermione a bit more than she already was.</p><p>“Made our minds up yet?”</p><p>Hermione huffed and looked at the menu, trying to find anything quick in order to get back to the conversation at hand.</p><p>“A tiramisu will be fine, thank you.” Hermione spoke softly as she handed the menu back. She didn’t even like tiramisu, but it was the first thing she had seen, and she knew that if she wanted to get back to the topic, she had to pick something to satisfy the man before her. The waitress, who was a bit thrown off by her sudden change in disposition and looked at Draco.</p><p>“Tiramisu? Are you sure?” Draco frowned. Hermione knew that Draco was aware of her detest for the dessert, but that her mind was far from desserts at the moment. So, he left it alone and turned back to the waitress. “I, uh, spoke to the manager, Charles, last week about the deluxe dessert. With <em>everything</em> on it.” He insisted. The waitress blinked for a moment and then instantly caught on to Draco’s drift while Hermione remained clueless and still stuck on the conversation that she had started.</p><p>“Oh, yes, of course, sir.” The waitress nodded shortly before walking away. Draco reached over and grabbed Hermione’s hands, an action that Hermione had once found comfort in when they last spoke away their status. Now, it just felt like he were stalling.</p><p>“Title or not, I’m only focused on you.” Draco spoke softly, trying his best to reassure her, but still holding something in that he was obviously keeping to himself.</p><p>“I just hope you aren’t playing the field with me, because you know how I feel.”</p><p>“And our feelings match. It’s not just sex or me free loading off of your kindness. This is just as important to me as it is to you.”</p><p>“So then what are we doing? Why all of this if we aren’t even exclusive?”</p><p>Draco gulped from this and gave a small, reassuring squeeze to her delicate hands. His eyes were different this time, full of hope and longing. A small smile came in the corners of his mouth, but when realizing she wouldn’t dare smile back at him, he became completely serious.</p><p>“Just give me a little more time? All I need is just a little bit of it. I promise you.”</p><p>Hermione looked into the wizard’s eyes, seeing everything that he felt, but still not wanting to give in to it. She was completely aware of when someone was taking advantage of her, and while she didn’t at all get that feeling with Draco, she was careful about how thin she could spread her energy. She understood why Draco wanted to wait, but she did often grow a bit impatient at the thought.</p><p>Not feeling too drawn in with his pleas, Hermione turned away from Draco to look into the crowd at all the other couples. There were so many differences about the pairs that were seated at their dinner tables, but the one thing they had in common was how happy they were and content. And then, Hermione dawned on a couple a bit farther away from her table. Two familiar and friendly faces.</p><p>Hermione gasped at the sight but couldn’t stop staring at them until she finally heard Draco calling her name from across the table.</p><p>“Hermione!”</p><p>“Shh,” She hushed with a whisper. “Not so loud!”</p><p>“What is it?” He asked, trying to find something off about the ambiance or at least lay eyes on anything odd that could’ve caught her attention.</p><p>“Harry and Ginny are here.” She spoke, facing him slowly. Hermione drew in a deep breath and tried to calm herself from the anxiety rising within her.</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So I don’t want them to know that I’m on a date. I haven’t told anybody.” She spoke, fluffing her hair out a bit so that it slightly covered the side of her face. Once she did this, she watched Draco’s face turn from concerned to somewhat solemn at the grand behavior she was displaying. It didn’t look good to him, at all, but she couldn’t help it.</p><p>“Or is it that you don’t want them to know you’re on a date with <em>me</em>?”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco!” Hermione frowned.</p><p>“Well what do you expect me to think? It looks like you’re completely ashamed of being here with me. I mean, look at yourself! You’re practically hiding!”</p><p>“For your information, the reason why I haven’t told them yet is because I didn’t want to say anything if I didn’t know how serious we were going to get,” She spoke. She glanced over at her friends and turned back to her date. The lights were dim in the restaurant, and they were a good distance away. The possibility of being spotted by them in the crowd was slim, but then again Draco’s blond hair sticks out like a sore thumb. That’s how she recognized Ginny, anyways. “Besides, have you told either Blaise or Pansy?”</p><p>Draco gulped for a moment, admitting defeat without actually saying so and gave a nonchalant shrug.</p><p>“Good point,” Draco spoke, but when noticing that Hermione was still anything but relaxed, he started to feel bad for even bringing her. “Do you want to leave, then?”</p><p>“Certainly not. I’m having an amazing time. Sometimes I just wish that maybe we could hang out with each other’s friends without it being so taboo.”</p><p>“It wouldn’t be controversial. It would be a disaster.” Draco smirked teasingly. Hermione, not so impressed by his attempt to joke around, fixed herself in her seat. She took a deep breath and glanced back over at her friends before turning to face her date. “I’m only joking with you. But who knows, maybe we’d be past the whole Gryffindor and Slytherin problem, considering we’re adults, now. It’s not to say we couldn’t mesh with one another. It just might be a bit…difficult, considering Potter still has ties to Weasley, you know what I mean?”</p><p>Hermione took in a deep breath and mulled over the possibilities. It would be fun to have both of her worlds molded into one, but first she needed to get better leverage on the one sitting before her. She shyly looked up at Draco.</p><p>“I was going to ask if you wanted to come to Ginny and Harry’s wedding as my plus one. She said I could invite someone.”</p><p>Draco, who was in the middle of a rather large sip of his champagne, stopped for a moment and coughed lightly, a small blush crossing him at the consideration.</p><p>“Me?”</p><p>“Of course, you. Who else?” She asked. “Maybe I should tell her no. I wouldn’t want you to feel like I’m rushing things.”</p><p>Her words were stained with a bit of hurt and lost hope. Hermione had saw so much good in Draco. She had started to wonder if maybe she were at fault for getting her hopes up so high when it came to him. Hermione’s feelings for him had grown and expanded way more than she ever intended them to do in the time they shared, but perhaps they were too different for each other right now. She watched as Draco had opened his mouth to say something in protest, but stopped once seeing the waitress come back over with the intricate dessert.</p><p>“Here you are.” She spoke just before quickly leaving the couple to themselves. Hermione looked at the small saucer her dessert was placed on, with sparkly streamers shooting out in various ways, but soon settling itself and forming the words, ‘Will You Be My Girlfriend?”</p><p>Hermione stared, taking in the sight as her jaw dropped. She looked up at Draco who was smiling at her softly, just as patient and quiet. Suddenly, Hermione began to regret all the doubt that had started to form within her. But right before the guilt had set in heavy, Draco reached out and opened his hands so that she could take his, rather than the other way around. Hermione rested hers daintily in his hands, and looked into his eyes.</p><p>“You’re quite hard to surprise, and you clearly saw through my defenses. I just wanted you to know that I respect all that you do, and all the work you put in for your own successes and the care and comfort that you’ve given me for all these months, and hopefully the months that we’ll spend forward, in the future. I realized a long time ago that you have a beautiful heart and soul, but lately it really dawned on me that I couldn’t just let you slip through my fingers. I want to start something new and beautiful with you, Hermione, if you’ll let me.”</p><p>A single tear rolled down Hermione’s cheek at Draco’s words. His words, both so genuine and pure, made her heart dance as wildly as she ever thought it could. She never thought that she would ever see this coming. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. As the sparklers began to fizz out from the worn out magic, Hermione nodded quickly.</p><p>“I’d like that.” She spoke modestly, grasping his hands in hers.</p><p>Hermione noticed the waitress come back around, this time an even wider grin on her face at the look of affection exchanged between the pair. In her hand she held the bill and had started to ask positive questions about their relationship that Hermione answered rather vaguely. But as Draco had begun to pay, the waitress turned around when hearing her name being called.</p><p>“Helga? Do you have a quick moment?”</p><p>Draco and Hermione looked up, just as the waitress did, and froze when seeing Harry and Ginny  walking over, though they stopped upon catching sight of the other couple, as well.</p><p>“Yes, Miss Weasley?” Helga asked as she stood in between both pairs.</p><p>Ginny took her eyes off of the couple and turned back to the waitress, handing her a small envelope and speaking softly under her breath.</p><p>“Thank you so much, Miss Weasley,” Helga spoke as she tucked the envelope into her pockets and then came back to Draco and Hermione. From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Harry and Ginny discussing something to themselves, both trying to reason with the other about something that Hermione just couldn’t hear. “Well, congratulations to you both! I’ll be back so you can finish your tiramisu.”</p><p>Once Helga had dismissed herself from the table, Hermione felt herself particularly uncomfortable when seeing the couple not far from them beginning to walk over slowly. They both appeared unsure of their actions and more or less obligated to say something, considering they had spotted Hermione in the same place they were, but it was obvious that they were caught off guard.</p><p>“Hermione, what are you doing here?” Ginny managed to press a smile on her face. She glanced at Draco briefly as though he were a sight that wasn’t meant to be seen, and turned her attention back to her friend.</p><p>“I…we just went out after work, is all,” Hermione nodded nervously.</p><p>“On Valentine’s Day?” Ginny questioned. Ginny was towering over both of them with such a suspicious look on her face that reminded Hermione of one a mother would give her teenage daughter. She couldn’t help but feel like Ginny was onto her, and more dwelling than that? She looked…disappointed. Ignoring her question, however, Hermione decided to speak up to not draw in anymore suspicions.</p><p>“What about you?”</p><p>Ginny blinked at her and then turned to Harry as though the question was a trap of some sort.</p><p>“Like I said, it’s Valentine’s Day. We were out on a date,” Ginny spoke. “And I’m rather fond of the waitress so whenever I come by, I manage to sneak some Quidditch tickets to her.”</p><p>“How nice,” Hermione nodded. She then remembered how this looked and turned to her date, feeling remorseful for such a pleasant evening being interrupted by her friends. While she didn’t really mind, knowing it was an accident, she saw the uncomfortable stiffness of her new boyfriend, and tensed a bit, as well. “Well, we were just finishing up so that we could head out, ourselves. You remember Draco, don’t you?”</p><p>God, what an idiotic question. Of course they knew who Draco was. He was the main one who bullied them in Hogwarts, and now here she was, falling for him and now officially his girlfriend as of…seven minutes ago, to be exact. And even though she was genuinely waiting until they became official to tell her friends about the nature of their relationship, she knew that right now just wouldn’t be the ideal time to expose such a fact.</p><p>“Of course,” Harry spoke. The young witch watched as her best friend reached forward, shaking hands with the wizard briefly and silently before returning to his fiancee’s side. “How are things on your end?”</p><p>Draco raised an unamused eyebrow at the young man and sighed heavily at his question.</p><p>”Perfectly normal, thanks.”</p><p>The four of them stood in awkward silence with nothing but powerful thoughts spilling out into the energy held between them. Ginny and Harry were all too interested in clarification as to why in the world these two would be seen together on a romantic holiday, and Hermione and Draco simply wanted to be left alone without any further questions.</p><p>“Well, we should run, too. It’s getting pretty late,” Ginny spoke. “Happy Valentine’s Day to the both of you.”</p><p>Hermione drew out the breath that had been stuck inside of her since the moment she had seen them dining just across the way and looked at Draco who appeared pretty amused with her struggle to keep it together in front of her friends.</p><p>“That went well. Really convincing.” Draco teased lightly.</p><p>“Shut up.” Hermione grinned from embarrassment. It was then that Draco knew he was in for a fun and life changing experience once he started officially calling her his girlfriend. He just couldn’t wait to see how this would turn out, for the both of them, once their friends caught on to their nerves. And while the thought did present itself as loathsome when thinking of how they’d have to involve their friends, at all, he knew it would still be fun to watch it all go down.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello! Back with another chapter! I’ve noticed that I’ve gotten more comments from my last two uploads on Christmas and I just wanted to say that I’m grateful for all of them! All the constructive criticism and feedback. It’s all appreciated and it’s all love. Keep it up! I’ve also been thinking that maybe each time I post, i dedicate a new chapter to some of my most active/frequent/supportive readers. Not entirely sure how I would go about it, but I’ll think it through and see what i can come up with. Just a way to say that i see you all. I see your comments, your kudos, bookmarks, and the like. And in addition to seeing them, I appreciate them.  Thanks so much for supporting me, as always! Love you all lots! NEXT UPDATE: 12/31–</p><p>::EDIT: Currently experiencing a personal situation. Next chapter will be posted 1/02. I apologize for the inconvenience::</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Hermione attend a dinner party, and try their best to remain neutral as they try their best to bring their separate lives together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
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<p> </p>
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<p>Gentle raindrops fell outside and landed on Hermione’s window pane. It was the perfect combination of rain and chill in the air that made the young woman that much more comfortable underneath her bed covers. Stirring gently in the silence, Hermione managed to force her eyes open after a few clearing blinks, and dawned on the sleeping man beside her, in the nude just the same way that she were. Sometimes, Hermione found joy in watching Draco sleep so peacefully. He looked so calm, so serene, and in the early, quiet morning with hair all chaotic, he was perfect. A small smile crept on her lips from the night they had shared, and she nestled closer to him for added warmth. She loved moments like these. Moments where they could just be, without anyone watching and no one criticizing their behaviors. But then, a small thought climbed into the back of Hermione’s thoughts. She hadn’t planned on prying about the unspoken dilemma that Draco had faced that night when he had become completely unglued, for the fear of him clamming back up. And while she told herself that he would speak up when he were ready, she often wondered when that would be. She gratefully accepted as being his girlfriend, but she couldn’t shake how both open and closed Hermione felt that he were being towards her.</p>
<p>From her movements, Draco moved slightly in her bed, his arms sloppily tossing themselves over her and bringing her close. Once he finally woke, Hermione beamed at him. Sure, there were still so many questions in the back of her head, but right now, she would choose to ignore them. Especially with how close Draco was bringing himself to her. Without any words, just a few looks exchanged between the two, Draco leant in and left soft and sultry kisses on her neck. A small moan escaped Hermione from the sensation, and shuddered when feeling Draco’s cool hands reach to touch her breast, toying with her nipples. A few more soft moans filled the bedroom, causing Hermione to lean into him, a kiss being planted on his lips. Draco grinned at this, shifting himself now so that he were on top of her as he leaned down and gave in more of himself into the kiss. Hermione hardly paid much mind into the fact that they had just woken up from their slumber and jumping straight into the physical. The spontaneity of it all was pure enjoyment on its own.</p>
<p>Draco lowered himself, kissing down the front of her torso, and then back to her beasts. A small bite of her lip was the sheepish response of Hermione who watched as Draco began sucking on her already hard nipples. She gently caressed his hair as he sucked and nibbled, and felt her clit beginning to swell from the stimulation. Last night was already fun for them both, but now? It was too good to just give up so easily. Once Draco had finished, resulting in a deep hunger and despite from her boyfriend, Hermione melted from just the looks he gave alone. He gave a grin, knowing exactly what he was doing to the young woman, though both of them jumped when hearing a loud pecking sound come from nearby.</p>
<p>Hermione gasped and sat up, looking around the darkened bedroom.</p>
<p>“What was that?” Her eyes wild with confusion. For a moment, Hermione wondered if Rita Skeeter had done the unthinkable and actually found out her address, but realized that as much as it seemed like a Rita Skeeter move, it wasn’t possible. Her and Draco’s days of being the Prophet’s hot topic were now over, thankfully. But yet, that still didn’t explain the noise.</p>
<p>“Look,” Draco spoke, pointing to the window and seeing an owl on the ledge. Harry’s owl. Its feathers ruffled from the rain and continued to peck the longer it stood on the window sill. Hermione shimmied away from under Draco and met the cold floor with her feet as she quickly tipped over to the window. “Who’s owl is that?”</p>
<p>Hermione quickly let the creature in who landed in the middle of the floor, shaking its feathers once more and letting Hermione retrieve the note.</p>
<p>“It’s from Harry.” She spoke, opening it and then meeting Draco back on the bed. He switched his gaze from his girlfriend as she read the note and then to the owl that so rudely interrupted their early morning loving. But the one thing that caught his attention most was the letter.</p>
<p>“What’s it say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione,</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t want to make this awkward</em>
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  <em>But Ginny and I were wondering</em>
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  <em>If you and Draco wanted to have dinner with us</em>
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  <em>Sometime next week. Would be nice</em>
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  <em>If you also brought a couple…</em>
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<p> </p>
<p>Hermione squinted at the remainder of the letter that had smudged just after the word ‘couple’. While she was certain that’s all that he wanted to say, the ink beside it did confuse her and make her wonder. For a moment, her heart stopped. She had almost forgotten that Harry and Ginny saw her and Draco just the other night for Valentine’s Day, but she pushed the thought aside momentarily. Now, here she was; face-to-face with her friends trying to invite them over to get a better clearance about what’s going on with them. Although it did seem a bit odd to her for such an invite to be made, she did find it nice that they would take this step. And on top of it, to invite another couple along, too.</p>
<p>“Something the matter?”</p>
<p>Hermione grinned at her boyfriend and leaned forward, kissing him gently on the lips. There was so much positivity that enthralled her that made it unbearable to keep in such an enormous amount of excitement. A huge weight lifted from her shoulders, and she finally figured she were getting the one thing she wanted for so long. A connection between her friends and Draco.</p>
<p>“Harry invited us over to have dinner with him and Ginny next week.” She spoke happily, though Draco’s expression remained mostly unchanged. She wondered why that were so. This was their green light to stop hiding. Maybe they’d break the ice if the situation called for it. “You don’t look too thrilled.”</p>
<p>“I don’t really understand what the purpose of this would be.” He spoke honestly as he made himself comfy under the blankets. Hermione frowned at his sudden pessimism and walked to let out the owl. Then, from where she stood at the window, she observed the man who was far too comfortable and closed off.</p>
<p>“Hey,” She spoke, sitting down on the bed and taking a good look at him. “What’s gotten into you?”</p>
<p>Draco closed his eyes momentarily to steady his thoughts and then opened them back as he looked at Hermione genuinely. There was apprehension and worry that clouded his pointed features, something that made Hermione equally as curious about the man laying in her bed.</p>
<p>“I don’t think your friends will like me. We have nothing in common.”</p>
<p>“You don’t know that,” Hermione started. “In all the years that you’ve known Harry, did you really know a single detail about him that wasn’t already known to the general public?”</p>
<p>“I’m just nervous, Hermione,” He spoke, and then further thought on what he said. It was true. He was incredibly nervous about it all. But the one thing that didn’t make it any easier was the talk he had with Harry about how he needed to tell Hermione about his father. But that hung over his head less often the more he ignored it. “After all these years… I’ve ruined Hogwarts. I’ve ruined so much that the rest of us have loved. I just don’t see how Potter or Weasley could even see past that.”</p>
<p>“First, let’s start by calling them their first names,” Hermione gave a weak smile. She never thought she would get the chance to hear Draco state that he was ever nervous about anything. And yet here he was, so innocent in his worries. “Second, they wouldn’t have taken this step if they didn’t thoroughly think this through! And besides, if I adore you, then they have no choice but to adore you, too.”</p>
<p>Hermione climbed back into bed with Draco, laying beside him. Though their original plan had been disrupted by Harry’s owl, it didn’t mean their intimacy stopped. It simply changed. As a matter of fact, with Draco’s confession being out in the open, if anything it felt as though their intimacy was intensified, now. But there was still a trace of doubt left within him, and so Hermione inched a bit closer to her beau and smiled charmingly.</p>
<p>“They said we can bring a couple. I was thinking maybe Blaise and Pansy? You know, just so that it’s an even Gryffindor to Slytherin ratio?”</p>
<p>Draco looked at his hopeful girlfriend whose eyes were shining at the possibilities. It was so refreshing to have someone as optimistic as her on his side, even if it didn’t sound like an ideal thing to do on a Friday night. But regardless, as long as she were with him, he was fine by that. It’s what she wanted, and any time spent with her was never a dull moment. Now if they were to throw in their own friend groups, that could very well be a different story. The upbringing and differences between the two houses (including their rivalries) was far too great, Draco though. But, seeing how Hermione was so hopeful towards it all, and the way her eyes continued to sparkle as she looked at him, he felt he had no choice but to give in to her beauty. There was so much he had yet to tell her, so he simply enjoyed the moment he had with her right now while they were still at peace and not torn into pieces by their friends, and let a heavy sigh escape from him.</p>
<p>“Fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> —-</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right before they had left Hermione’s flat, a rush of nerves came over her just before they arrived. Hermione had thought, in the days leading up to the dinner party, that perhaps this was rather soon for their relationship. They had been together officially about a week and a half, and now here they were, showing up now as a couple to a dinner party. Hermione felt so grown up. Even though she and Ron did this on multiple occasions with the now engaged couple, it felt different, even though she struggled to find out why that were so. Maybe it was because she always had Ron by her side her entire life. There was nothing new or exciting to really discuss when they had these sort of events. With Ron, they only ever really discussed work or simple matters. They had grown comfortable with this “anything goes” mentality to the point where there was nothing different to add to the conversations except the reminiscing they did on the past. But now, with Draco, they would actually get the chance to know him, and Hermione would get the chance to know Blaise and Pansy better, as well.</p>
<p>Draco had been kind enough to ensure that Hermione was alright with Pansy’s appearance tonight. She figured that if it were okay with Ginny and Harry to extend the invitation, then that’s all that mattered. And besides, Hermione wasn’t one to get too jealous, especially over a crush that happened when they were merely fifteen. Yeah, those things she could easily tuck away. Besides, she was interested in seeing how Draco was around his friends, just as she was sure he wanted to see the version of herself that came forth in the presence of both Ginny and Harry. Soon, the more she thought about it, the more she became excited for the idea of tonight’s event. She was actually going to see a different version of Draco that she had never seen before, and this thrilled her.</p>
<p>“You ready?” Hermione asked as she looked up at Draco. The hall to their flat was quiet without much stirring or noise from anyone else’s flats nearby. Instead, it was just them as seemingly the only source of life in this building.</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Draco lied. He reached for his top button collar and then smirked upon realizing that Hermione was watching him work through his nervous tick. And so, in typical Hermione fashion, she reached for his hand and held it gently before planting a small kiss on it.</p>
<p>“It’ll be great.” She assured. Then, as they both took in a deep breath, bracing themselves for tonight, Hermione raised her hand and knocked on their door. It took another knocked for Ginny on the other side to yell out ‘Coming!’ to the pair before unlocking the door quickly. Before Ginny could notice, Hermione and Draco ceased their hand holds and watched as Ginny grinned. Her face was far more genuine than the last time Hermione had seen her. Back on Valentine’s Day, Ginny was confused and caught off guard at the sight of them dining out. But now? Ginny seemed far more ready to face tonight with an open mind.</p>
<p>“Hello! How are you?” Ginny asked as she pulled Hermione into a tight, warm hug.</p>
<p>“Good, good! We’re good,” Hermione started as they broke the hug. She glanced over at Draco, unsure what to see in this moment and watched as Ginny looked him over.</p>
<p>“Hello Draco.” She spoke, her smile never really leaving her, though it did dim a bit from slight shyness.</p>
<p>“Nice to see you again.” Draco spoke, his voice low and sincere to her greeting which gave more assurance to Hermione in that moment. She felt that he was genuinely trying, and that warmed her. She was then glad that she encouraged Draco to invite Blaise and Pansy, just in case things turned left. But, she didn’t exactly want to give any life to that possibility.</p>
<p>“Please, come in,” Ginny spoke kindly as she stepped aside. “Harry’s upstairs finishing up some work in his study. But he should be down soon.”</p>
<p>“Or now,” Harry spoke up as he apparated right behind his fiancée. Ginny jumped a bit from this and gave a playful slap to his arm which caused Draco to snicker from the action. Hermione greeted Harry as she normally did, with a hug, and watched as he walked over to Draco, his expression serious though still open. “Draco.”</p>
<p>“Harry.” Draco spoke, nodding towards him briefly before tucking himself diligently by Hermione’s side. A quietness came over the two couples as they stood. She started to look around at the flat and then it clicked to her.</p>
<p>“Goodness! Your flat looks even better than the last time I saw it.” Hermione smiled.</p>
<p>“Wait until you see what Harry’s done with the guest bedroom. It’s nearly full of Potions, now.”</p>
<p>“I turned it into a study,” Harry spoke. He looked at the rest of the party and fixed his eyes back on the other quiet man. “If I do remember, Draco, you were quite the scholar when it came to Potions.”</p>
<p>“It was my best area. I gave a lot of attention to it because of Snape.”</p>
<p>“Do you both want to take a look?” Harry asked, eyeing Hermione and Draco. His voice was steady and careful, as though he were afraid the wrong words might break them.</p>
<p>“Maybe you two can go off by yourselves and then Hermione can help me set the table for dinner. Kill two birds with one stone, right?”</p>
<p>The two men looked at their partners, both not entirely thrilled to be left alone considering their history, but doing so on account of the invitation that Harry extended. And soon, the two men were trailing up the stairs, silence following them until Hermione caught Harry asking Draco, ‘keep up with much Quidditch these days?’ Hermione stifled a chuckle and instead let it turn into a feeling of relief. At least Harry was trying, too. For a moment, Hermione selfishly wished she hadn’t asked Draco to invite Blaise and Pansy along, too. Maybe just the four of them to start would’ve been enough and less overwhelming for the night. But she knew that maybe Draco would’ve felt comfortable with his own mates there, as well, and so the thought was instantly tossed aside.</p>
<p>Now that she were alone with Ginny, Hermione followed the red head into the kitchen area, taking in the amazing smell of  ratatouille spaghetti that Ginny had made. Full of color and impeccable aromas, Hermione found herself wanting a plate immediately.</p>
<p>“Ginny this looks amazing.” Hermione commended as she grabbed the plates that Ginny gave her. There were only four in her hand, though she kept her curiosities to herself and wrote it off as an honest mistake.</p>
<p>“Thank you. It’s a Muggle recipe I thought I’d try out,” She smiled as she then grabbed a set of forks and napkins that she took the time to delicately roll up. It thrilled Hermione to see such an amount of effort. “Have you taken Draco to Muggle London yet?”</p>
<p>Hermione scoffed a bit and shook her head at the idea.</p>
<p>“You know, I never really thought about that. We were just so focused on tonight. I think he might be a bit nervous.”</p>
<p>“Well, hopefully you brought something good to take the edge off for us all.” Ginny nudged, though after doing so, she left the young witch confused.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“We asked you to bring wine.” Ginny repeated, looking her friend over.</p>
<p>“No you didn’t.” Hermione spoke. A sudden rush of anxiety fueled itself and landed right in her stomach. But it didn’t stop there, it migrated to her limbs, making her feel uneasy at what was about to come next as she stared at her friend.</p>
<p>“Hermione, the letter clearly states to bring a couple bottles of wine,” There it was. The one incident that would start the night off in the worse possible way. “It’s not a big deal, honestly. If there’s no wine, we can do without it. It just might have helped Draco with the nerves.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched as Ginny walked into the dining room, laying the dish in the center of the table. Yet, when noticing that Hermione wasn’t following behind her, Ginny cocked her head to the side at her friend’s choice to stay stationary.</p>
<p>“I thought you said bring a ‘couple’.” Hermione spoke.</p>
<p>Ginny stared at her friend for a few seconds and let out a mellow laugh at the miscommunication.</p>
<p>“Don’t beat yourself up about it. It really was just a mistake— Harry’s mistake, actually. I always tell him to try to avoid sending mail in the rain, or to protect it if he does. Imagine if you actually did bring another couple though,” Ginny started as her laugh began to fade. Yet, when she realized that Hermione wasn’t laughing at all, Ginny became completely serious. “Hermione?”</p>
<p>A knock came at a front door and the two witches looked together, with one stuck in confusion and the other in pure dread.</p>
<p>“Ginny, I…”</p>
<p>Ginny took one final look at her friend and set down the food as she rushed to the door. The door opened slowly and wide enough for Hermione to see over her friend’s shoulders as well.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry…I don’t know you.” Ginny spoke to the couple, who didn’t exactly look to be the friendliest people around. Though, once Hermione locked eyes with Blaise, he raised his finger to point at her.</p>
<p>“<em>She</em> knows us.” He spoke. Ginny, still having a grip on the doorknob, turned around in uncertainty. From behind the two witches, Harry and Draco came down. Harry stopped his descend down the stairs, and felt an unnerving warmth cross him once seeing Draco make his way to the door. The unsuspecting and oblivious wizard greeted his friends happily and brought them in without a single look of reassurance that it was okay. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault. He was under the pure guise that they invited them for his sake.</p>
<p>Blaise and Pansy entered slowly, looking around the house, both mirroring each other in overt tension.</p>
<p>“Uh, Harry, Ginny, these are my friends, Blaise and Pansy.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched the couple, who wanted to be anything but rude, smack uncomfortable smiles on their faces at the uninvited guests. Ginny on the other hand, who was boiling with fury and still grinning from ear to ear, marched over to Hermione and grabbed her hand.</p>
<p>“Will you all please excuse us?” She asked, tugging Hermione back into the kitchen and away from the view of all the others. As they both stood there, Hermione felt tremendously guilty. She had singlehandedly ruined a party by inviting two guests that weren’t invited at all. “What the hell, Hermione?”</p>
<p>“It was a mistake,” Hermione whispered, her voice nearly a plea for forgiveness at the miscommunication. “I’m sorry!”</p>
<p>“You could’ve double-checked with me! Since when do I offer to invite any random couple into my home?”</p>
<p>“I thought it was for Draco’s sake so that he could have friends here, as well,” Her voice had begun to ache from the whispering but she continued on. The last thing she needed was for anyone else to hear them. “I felt bad. He was so nervous and I thought that this would’ve been a good time for us to meet one another’s closest friends. I was just so excited.”</p>
<p>Ginny narrowed her eyes at Hermione, knowing completely that there was something that she wasn’t telling her, but knew that if she were to ask for details now, it wouldn’t look good to the rest of the guests. And so, seeing how remorseful her friend was and understanding the funny and cruel nature of mistakes, Ginny tried her best to be rid of the annoyance that stained her demeanor.</p>
<p>“They can stay but as soon as something goes awry on their doing, they have to leave.”</p>
<p>The ultimatum, both expected and stern, was something that Hermione listened to but hoped wouldn’t come to fruition. She had an open mind to a lot, and she hoped that her friends did, as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Ginny’s words, Harry ended up finding out about the miscommunication, and didn’t take it the same way that Ginny did. While he was concerned at how the night would draw on, he did have a good (and quiet!) laugh about the whole situation. This calmed Hermione’s nerves as much as it unsettled her, though she tried to distract herself from this. Even if they couldn’t possibly get as deeply connected with their relationship as she had intended, they could still try to enjoy their time out. But that was rather hard, considering everyone was familiar with each other because of harsh words and improper name calls from some years ago. So, each couple sat in silence and ate dinner as fast as they could to hopefully excuse themselves politely and eventually leave without ever looking back.</p>
<p>Hermione stirred around some more pasta and looked at each of the guests at the dining room table. Harry, who was seated beside Ginny, had his head down as he devoured his plate. He made a point to avoid eye contact most of the time, for the sake of not having to make poor small talk in the mean time, while Ginny kept close eye contact on the two Slytherin’s nearby. Her face, pouted and tight, was quite intimidating to Hermione, even though she wasn’t the target of her glares. She managed to steal a glance at Draco next who was eating and often looking back at her. She flashed him a brief smile and locked eyes on Blaise who was stuffing his face with the food, and then at Pansy who was taking bites here and there, but carefully examining her food the whole way through. It was quite the sight; a scene out of a very odd renaissance painting, almost. The First and Last Supper, without a shadow of doubt.</p>
<p>“The meal is very delicious Ginny,” Hermione spoke up, triggering everyone to glance up at the young witch and turn their attention to her. “The sauce is immaculate. Did you make it yourself?”</p>
<p>Ginny blinked, clearly taken off guard by Hermione’s random compliment and gave a half-smile to her friend.</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s uh…store bought.” Ginny spoke, looking at the dish and then at everyone else’s plate. The silence lingered on after the brief interaction before Harry shifted in his seat a bit.</p>
<p>“Honey, do we have wine?” He asked, his hand resting on the back of her seat.</p>
<p>“I don’t believe we do. I’ll go check.” Ginny stood quickly.</p>
<p>“No, please, I will.” Harry stood as well. Hermione watched as the couple insisted consistently, both ending up walking away from the dining room to find more wine, leaving the other two couples alone. Hermione paused for a moment, feeling instantly what she assumed Draco had felt when initially coming over. It was awkward, and more than that? Somewhat unbearable. Hermione didn’t know much about Blaise except that he was Draco’s drinking buddy and mate altogether, but she did know that Pansy wasn’t fond of her, and neither was she of Pansy, but she didn’t want to keep a sour mood because of Pansy’s demeanor when they were teenagers.</p>
<p>“So, what did you two end up doing for Valentine’s Day?” Hermione asked, trying to bring some normalcy into the atmosphere.</p>
<p>“We spent most of it arguing about what to do and eventually we just fell asleep on the couch after a few drinks.” Pansy actually made eye contact with Hermione as she spoke, showing a neutral expression to the question. It was quite odd seeing Pansy as anything but frigid, though Hermione wasn’t complaining. It was actually refreshing.</p>
<p>“Sounds like you two are pretty comfortable.” Hermione remarked. Blaise and Pansy both looked at her, a look of disapproval for her words coming back to haunt her. “Not that comfortable is bad, you know?”</p>
<p>“She meant it in a good way.” Draco spoke up, a reassuring wink thrown in his friend’s direction. While Hermione appreciated Draco’s attempts to stand in solidarity with her, she knew that her comment still didn’t sit well with the couple. Blaise, who was still taking in Hermione’s remark, leaned forward on the table a bit.</p>
<p>“I guess we are comfortable,” Blaise thought as he looked at Pansy. “We’re low key, you know? It’s not like our relationship is plastered in the Prophet or anything like that.”</p>
<p>Hermione greatly regretted having said anything at all. Between how Ginny felt towards her right now and the way Blaise took her remark, Hermione realized that tonight would be much harder than she anticipated it to be. And so, when seeing Ginny and Harry come back into the dining room after taking an exceptionally long time during their search for wine, Hermione felt more at ease from having the two of them back in the ambiance. Yet, both of them came back empty handed.</p>
<p>“We haven’t got any wine.” Harry spoke as he and Ginny settled back into their seats, dreading the impending forced conversations that they would soon have to entertain.</p>
<p>“What a shame,” Blaise started as he held his cup of water. “Could’ve definitely used some.”</p>
<p>Hermione faced Blaise quickly, trying to see if there were any lasting emotions left on his face, but instead met eyes with Pansy who seemed as though she were studying her. And not just her, but Draco as well. Hermione wondered if it were obvious that she and Draco were dating, or if everyone was suspicious of the fact that there were two established relationships in the room, and one awfully close friendship. Hermione wasn’t as prepared to answer questions about their dating life just yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time before they actually came up. The only sour part about all of this was that she and Draco hadn’t discussed what to do in the event that they were asked.</p>
<p>“So, uh, Hermione, have you been planning any weddings since Draco’s…uh…since the new year?”</p>
<p>A small blush crossed Hermione’s cheeks at Pansy’s statement. Right now, it was hard to decipher if the questions they asked were genuinely out of curiosity, or as payback for her unintentional slight. Either way, she wasn’t fond of them, or better yet, the way they were prosed.</p>
<p>“I’ve sort of put wedding planning aside for a moment and took up a job at the Ministry. But, I’m helping plan Harry and Ginny’s wedding,” She smiled. Hermione glanced at Draco and then lit up a bit, trying to keep the career topic going. Something was better than anything at this point. “Draco’s also waiting for word about a Potions professor position at Hogwarts, too. I’ll miss seeing him every now and then in the building, but I’m incredibly excited for him. I know he’ll do well.”</p>
<p>Hermione had hoped her pride wasn’t too much, but felt comforted when feeling Draco place a hand on her hand underneath the table.</p>
<p>“Fascinating,” Blaise spoke, soon turning his attention to Harry. “And what did you get yourself into, Potter?”</p>
<p>Harry took a devastatingly long gulp of water as everyone waited for the answer, with the exception of Hermione and Ginny. From an outsiders standpoint, it looked as though the wizard were trying to change his beverage into the much needed wine. But once he finished his gulps, Hermione grew confident in her best friend.</p>
<p>“I’m an Auror.”</p>
<p>Blaise snickered a bit at the revelation, as did Pansy. The joke, which had clearly gone over everyone else’s head, lingered between the Slytherin couple before Blaise spoke up in defense of his behavior.</p>
<p>“I apologize. It’s just so…so Gryffindor of you.” Blaise let out.</p>
<p>“It’s very ‘Gryffindor’ of me to have a job?” Harry’s eyes narrowed at the presumption, to which Blaise turned to Draco. The man, obviously feeling like a jerk for how he had come off, still wore his grin but tried to loop his friend into the mix, now.</p>
<p>“Well, Draco told me one time that when Gryffindor’s leave Hogwarts, they either become weird Hogwarts headmasters, or Aurors. You know you lot are known for being the good guys.”</p>
<p>“I hardly think that’s accurate,” Hermione spoke, then realizing the source of such an assumption. “Surely Draco was joking.”</p>
<p>“What makes you disagree?” Blaise asked, pushing his plate aside as he then rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. The man, confident but also arrogant, in the way he tried to obtain more information, looked almost as though he were challenging her for more information. Hermione, on the other hand, didn’t want to give up on her viewpoint, and challenged him back.</p>
<p>“Well, Draco is probably one of the most gentle, interesting people I’ve ever met. I think that once you’ve given a category to a group of people, it leaves no room for people to expand. You will only ever associate Gryffindors as ‘good’ or Slytherin’s as ‘bad’. Draco is good, and I’m certain you know this.”</p>
<p>Blaise dawned on the girl across the table from him for a brief moment, his eyes nearly looking through her in the silence. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. He was offended, once again from Hermione’s mouth, and she could see the embarrassment trickled on his face. So, in order to draw less attention to himself,  he then turned to Ginny.</p>
<p>“I know you from somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Ginny plays for the Holyhead Harpies. She’s excellent on the field.” Hermione smiled, hoping this was another bridge between between the two worlds.</p>
<p>“Holy shit! No way.” Blaise grinned at Ginny. “Number 6? Is that you?”</p>
<p>“In the flesh.” Ginny smiled faintly, looking back at Harry to make sure that a certain green monster hadn’t washed up on him from Blaise’s reaction. But while Harry’s face managed to remain stoic and unchanged, Pansy seemed pretty annoyed with her partner’s sudden fawning.</p>
<p>“Wow! You’re the best one on the field, and apparently in the kitchen,” Blaise beamed. He turned to Pansy, nudging her as though to get the same excitement from her, but there was none. “Babe isn’t this amazing?”</p>
<p>“Quite.” Pansy remarked blandly as she brought her glass of water to her mouth.</p>
<p>As the conversations seemed to continue growing on, though this time with everyone else’s own partners, Hermione felt a bit perturbed by the sight. Maybe Draco was right. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to announce anything. Maybe they just needed to get away. Hermione looked around the table, hoping that no one else could hear her as she leaned in towards Draco.</p>
<p>“This is a complete nightmare.” She spoke in a frantic whisper.</p>
<p>“Really? I think it could be going a lot worse.”</p>
<p>“Since when are you the optimist here?” Hermione teased sarcastically.</p>
<p>Draco smirked at his girlfriend and had made the motion to put his arm around her, which had become second nature to him matter of fact, and stopped when remembering the circumstance that they were currently in.</p>
<p>“Do you want to leave?” He whispered, eyeing her carefully.</p>
<p>“Maybe we can say that Crooks is sick and I have to make sure he’s alright. Or that we have plans tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“We?” Draco raised his eyebrow. “We’re letting them know that there’s a ‘we’ and an ‘us’ tonight?”</p>
<p>“God no. Do you not see how awkward this is? We’ll just have to wait for another time. A more appropriate time.” Hermione whispered.</p>
<p>“So then what’s the plan?” Draco whispered.</p>
<p>“You have to go to Hogwarts early in the morning and I have some work to catch up on. Deal?”</p>
<p>“Deal.” Draco nodded.</p>
<p>Hermione repositioned herself as straight as possible as the other couples continued speaking amongst themselves. She caught a glimpse of Ginny who was just then finishing up with Harry and turned to the rest of the table. Hermione paused, hoping silently that her friend were calling it a night. Perhaps they had the same idea, as well. But she paused when seeing a small smirk on Ginny’s face at the question she prepared herself to ask.</p>
<p>“If you are all up for it, may we can play chess or a few rounds of Silly Sorting Hat.” She offered. The table, which was once full of individuals talking became quiet. It seemed like everyone were considering the possibilities of where this could go, if they gave in. Hermione, who was still set on trying their escape plan before the night got any more awkward, sat in pure shock once Blaise chimed up from his seat.</p>
<p>“That is, if Hermione and Draco wanted to do so, of course.”</p>
<p>Now, the rest of the couples were eyeing Draco and Hermione, trying to get a feel for where their desires lied. They were the only ones neither objecting nor agreeing, and the silence rested on them. As much as tonight had been a circus, she wanted more than anything to see if they could make this work. So, with no other answer but the one everyone else seemed to want, Hermione glanced at Draco for added support.</p>
<p>“Sure.”</p>
<p>“Then it’s settled. Slytherin versus Gryffindor?” Draco suggested playfully, both dreading the upcoming events but also finding the humor in all of it the more that it unfolded.</p>
<p>“No, that’s too easy,” Blaise spoke up, a mischievous grin growing on his once stern face. “Let’s mix things up a bit. Draco, you’ll be with Potter and Weasley. And Granger, you’ll be with us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione had only ever played Silly Sorting Hat about once or twice back when she would frequent the Weasley residence. It was one of the best things that Fred and George had created and sold in their shop, if she did say so, herself. The game was loads of fun, especially when drinking, but the absence of wine surely wouldn’t be missed once everyone got past their own quirks. The game, which consisted of a small sorting hat much like the one at Hogwarts, would be placed on the player’s head. Soon, a small object, animal, or anything else would appear underneath the hat on top of the player’s head while the members on their team tried to help them guess what it was. Hermione, being rather good at the game, could feel the childish giddiness and her own adult competitiveness stir wildly within her, but relaxed once a deeper feeling took precedence over it all— worry. From across the room as she sat with two people she barely knew, she watched Draco. How strange it was to see him sitting so closely to Harry and Ginny. A sight that was so unfamiliar to the witch. She thought she would enjoy it, but of course that was only under positive pretenses. Instead, the only thing she wished more than for the night to be over, was to be on his team in more ways than one.</p>
<p>Harry elected to go first, which relieved Hermione greatly. Any instance to get the attention and pressure off of Draco the better. She often wondered if her need to look after him so closely stemmed from somewhere deeper in the connection that they had. Hermione was no stranger to Draco’s moods, having seen both the best of him and the not so nice parts of him as well. But there was something lurking within his soul that she felt she needed to protect.</p>
<p>From where she sat, she saw Harry place the small, miniature sorting hat on his head. The hat trembled for a few moments before an item popped out underneath the hat and floated on top of Harry’s head. The object, shiny, gold and rotating slowly in the air caught the attention of Draco and Ginny greatly.</p>
<p>“Uh, it’s an item that you use for…”</p>
<p>“For time.” Draco interjected. The word, far too obvious for the player, soon became slightly larger on Harry’s head, adding a small bit of pressure.</p>
<p>“A clock. A watch.” Harry guessed, looking at them both.</p>
<p>“No, think Potter. Time!” Draco insisted, noticing the Time-Turner getting gradually bigger from the key word.</p>
<p>“Stop saying ‘time!’” Ginny called out to Draco, both amused and frustrated as she saw the object as significantly bigger than its usual size. Harry looked at the both of them and laughed nervously.</p>
<p>“Use any other word but T-I-M-E!”</p>
<p>“You use it to visit the past!”</p>
<p>“Oh! A time turner!” Harry grinned. After his guess, the time turner dissolved in a bit of a fog and readjusted itself back on Harry’s head.</p>
<p>“Good job trying to knock me unconscious, Malfoy.” Harry teased, giving a competitive grin to his teammate.</p>
<p>“Guess I ought to try harder next time.” Draco returned the playfulness. Hermione tried to conceal the smile that formed on her face from seeing the two of them together. The one thing she thought would be impossible to witness was here, staring her dead in the face. She tried not to make it that big of a deal, but it was. Having both of her worlds intersect with one another was important. And with the exchange, Hermione noticed Ginny’s features soften, as well. She genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself, which made her stall on checking Blaise and Pansy’s reactions, too. Perhaps they were disgusted by the friendliness? Perhaps they were indifferent? Either way, Hermione wouldn’t be able to tell, and for the moment, that was alright with her.</p>
<p>As the hat reset on Harry’s head, trembling in midair, everyone in the room watched in awe as a small Hippogriff popped into the game and on top of Harry’s head. The animal made the gesture that it was calling out, but it wasn’t heard, simply for the sake of the game.</p>
<p>“You rode this in our third year.” Draco started, eyeing the creature intensely. It was fairly hard to describe a Hippogriff without giving away its key characteristics.</p>
<p>“A broom? A train?”</p>
<p>“No, it’s an animal.” Draco insisted.</p>
<p>“A Dragon?”</p>
<p>“Harry that was your fourth year,” Ginny spoke impatiently. She searched all around for the perfect way to get him to understand, and then it hit her. “It mauled Draco when he started taunting it.”</p>
<p>The room became quiet once more, this time an unknown energy filling the room. Harry’s face, which was at one point happy to be involving everyone in the game, cleared his throat uncomfortably and glanced at Draco.</p>
<p>“A Hippogriff?”</p>
<p>The small animal under the hat disappeared just as the Time-Turner did, and Harry quickly removed it. He turned around to Hermione’s group and eyed them, tossing the hat over their way. Hermione offered the hat to both Blaise and Pansy, though the couple denied it, assuring Hermione she would get them the most points if she went. Yet, Hermione was far better at describing that she was with trusting other people’s perspectives. And so, she stood in the middle of the living room and put the small hat on her head. It began to tremble almost instantly and she hitched a breath, hoping desperately that nothing that could be related to anyone else in the room would make itself known. The last thing she needed was to ruffle some feathers anymore than she already did. But soon, her worry had intensified when she had obviously mistaken Pansy’s competitive face for her own disapproval of the new object.</p>
<p>“If you’re going to use parchment, you must make sure you have this.” Pansy spoke.</p>
<p>“A quill?”</p>
<p>“And what do quills need?” Blaise asked.</p>
<p>“Ink!”</p>
<p>Some of the fog appeared near Hermione as the object disappeared and soon brought to life another one on top of her head.</p>
<p>“Oh! The main highlight of any Quidditch game.” Blaise spoke. His eyes transferred to Ginny for a moment and then back to Hermione, realizing she was stuck. “You need this to win the game.”</p>
<p>“The snitch!”</p>
<p>Hermione glanced over at the opposite team, seeing them all frustrated at how well she was doing, and felt a bit proud. For the first time in years, Draco and Harry were on the same page.</p>
<p>The hat began trembling up above her and stopped once another subject took place just above the witch. Hermione watched her teammates, noticing how their faces had turned a bit at what they saw. She wondered impatiently if it were as bad as she thought it would be.</p>
<p>“This one’s easy,” Blaise spoke, even though he bore a difficult expression on his face. “One of the oddest wizards of all time owned this animal.”</p>
<p>Hermione blinked, his clue clearly going over her head. She didn’t know too many odd wizards, and the ones that she did know, she hadn’t known anything of their familiars.</p>
<p>“Give me another hint.”</p>
<p>“Ahh, okay. It was owned by our former headmaster. You know, the one who unfortunately run Hogwarts for so many years?”</p>
<p>Hermione felt every bit of blood inside of her turn ice cold from his words. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Matter of fact, she didn’t want to believe it.</p>
<p>“Who exactly are you referring to?”</p>
<p>“Dumbledore, who else?”</p>
<p>Hermione wasn’t looking at Harry, but judging by the sound of him shifting in his seat, she knew that this had to be the moment she was dreading the whole night. And honestly, she understood why.</p>
<p>“That’s rather inappropriate.” Hermione spoke, unsure of where to go from here. She no longer wanted to play the game. Instead, she wanted to leave instantly for so many reasons.</p>
<p>“Dumbledore was a good man.” Harry spoke up, his eyes piercing at the man across from his living room. “He was someone I trusted. He gave his life trying to help me. And above all, he gave his life helping Draco.”</p>
<p>“I can have my opinions, Potter. You can have yours.”</p>
<p>“This is my house, and I say that your opinion is not only biased, it is wrong and stemming from a place with which you don’t even fully understand.”</p>
<p>“Woah there, mate.” Blaise shifted so that he was now sitting on the edge of his seat.</p>
<p>“I’m not your mate.” Harry bit as he did the same.</p>
<p>“Maybe we should all just calm down a bit,” Draco spoke up, a shock to each of the dinner party guests. He turned to his painfully arrogant friend, a stern look on his face. “Harry’s right, Blaise. Dumbledore saved me, and he didn’t even have to, especially after knowing that I was tasked to…you know…”</p>
<p>“Hey, whose side are you on, anyways? You used to detest Dumbledore and now you’re apart of this fan club?”</p>
<p>“I’m not on anyone’s side. I’m just trying to help educate you on—”</p>
<p>“Educating? Do I look stupid to you?” Blaise spoke, his face riddled with disgust and betrayal.</p>
<p>“I didn’t say any of that, did I? You’re the one getting all wet for nothing.” Draco turned away from his friend, locking eyes with Hermione. Hermione swam in his blue orbs, seeing everything that she was thinking right then and there. He wanted to leave, as did she, but there was something deeper brewing in between the two friends that anyone could see that night.</p>
<p>“But I’m asking you if I look stupid to you,” Blaise spoke, standing up and making his way over to the blonde. Hermione had never been around Blaise before, but she was certain that he was cross with him in a way that even Draco hadn’t experienced. “You didn’t think we would pick up on what’s going on here? Your secret, side conversations? The words you two share without even speaking? I can’t be the only one who questioned the nature of you and Granger’s relationship tonight.”</p>
<p>Draco stood up, giving a good amount of distance between him and his insulted friend. The last thing he wanted to do was feed into Blaise’s bruised ego by stepping to him in the same way, but yet here he was.</p>
<p>“<em>Hermione</em> and I have been close for some time now.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched the two men and noticed that while they eyed each other, Pansy, Ginny and Harry were all looking at her, confusion resting on their quiet faces. She was embarrassed that Blaise had brought up the one thing that she and Draco agreed on keeping private, tonight. And now everyone was here expecting an answer from the two of them. Hermione walked over to the two of them and gently pulled Draco away. Blaise turned away after Hermione’s dissolution of the aggressiveness between them both, and realized they were now the only two that were standing. She hated this. It felt like they were in a circus, left on display so that everyone could gawk at them.</p>
<p>“BEHOLD, A SLYTHERIN &amp; GRYFFINDOR IN A RELATIONSHIP. HOW LONG WILL IT LAST?”</p>
<p>“I bet.” Blaise grumbled under his breath. The more Hermione looked at the other guests, the more she realized what was going on. Their silence meant that somehow, they possibly agreed with all that Blaise was alluding to.</p>
<p>“Ginny and Harry don’t think that way.” Hermione spoke, her eyes fixated on her friends as they stared back, equally as concerned as the other.</p>
<p>“Well, we did see you both having dinner on Valentine’s Day. You both looked sort of—” Ginny started, though facing Harry after he interrupted her.</p>
<p>“<em>Very</em> intimate.”</p>
<p>“A Valentine’s Day dinner,” Blaise asked as he crossed his leg over the other. It was evident to everyone that he was enjoying the gradual release of information. Though, his eyes narrowed as he turned to Draco who was standing awfully close to the Muggle-born’s side. “Does your father know?”</p>
<p>Hermione’s eyes met Draco from Blaise’s words. He had never once mentioned his father while they were together, and now here she stood on a mountain of questions about Draco’s father and what Blaise was alluding to, but she figured that something this personal could wait, especially as they stood on trial in front of their friends.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing to tell. Hermione and I are just enjoying each other’s company.”</p>
<p>Blaise, who was clearly done interrogating his friend, turned to Hermione with a softer approach.</p>
<p>“Is that all?”</p>
<p>Although Hermione deeply adored the efforts that Draco had put in, in order to keep their private life private, she knew that there was nothing left for her to do. They would either have to bite the bullet and get out with it right here and right now, or they could continue stalling.</p>
<p>“Fine then,” Hermione gulped. She glanced at Draco who simply looked at her, and unintentionally brought herself closer to him. “Draco and I…we…”</p>
<p>Hermione was caught with the words stuck in her throat for some reason. Maybe it would’ve been better if everyone had knew they were dating beforehand, but nobody did. This would’ve come off as a surprise to everyone, and tonight had far too many surprises and wrong turns as it did. Soon, as she pondered how to put it, Draco reached for her hand and held it securely in his own. Yet another surprise to top off all others.</p>
<p>“Well, we started spending more time with each other as more than friends. And on Valentine’s Day, I asked her to be my girlfriend.”</p>
<p>The room grew quiet and dry, something even more damning than it did earlier. Hermione had started to weigh out how things would’ve gone if they waited any longer, but instead she realized that couldn’t be any further from the thought. There’s no way in Hell that their friends would’ve let them off this easily if they decided to decline speaking on their love life. But, while she stood there proudly as Draco’s girlfriend, she also stood there, covered in eyes that dawned on the both of them in all different ways.</p>
<p>Pansy, who had been particularly quiet tonight, narrowed her eyes at the witch standing beside him. They hadn’t had the best history, with Pansy being the source of incessant rumors and name-calling that had plagued the Hogwarts halls. But now, she looked at Hermione in a wave of confusion. It was evident that to her, a friendship was more understandable than a real relationship.</p>
<p>“I don’t think this is a good idea. I just feel like you’re both so different..” Pansy spoke up before all the others, with the words nearly falling from her mouth.</p>
<p>“I’m not asking for your permission, now am I?” Draco snapped.</p>
<p>Blaise, who was uncomfortable by their closeness all night had now softened in his facial expressions. While he wasn’t happy, the couple in the center of attention could tell that he was thinking logically, rather than with feeling as Pansy had been.</p>
<p>“I have to agree with P,” Blaise started. “Your family are such staunch Pure-Blood supremacists. I don’t see how this can go anywhere but downhill for you both.”</p>
<p>“Then I’ll be right by her side if it does.” Draco defended.</p>
<p>“<em>When</em> it does.” Blaise frowned in his insistence.</p>
<p>Hermione tried to remain positive amidst their negativity. She had wondered for a moment if she weren’t seeing it the way they were. Could it even work out between them? What happens when his family does find out? These were all things that Hermione had planned to worry about when the time came. But now, with his friends’ reservations, she grew a bit more weary, but not devoid of hope.</p>
<p>“So, two out of four have reservations. I think we’re in a good medium.” Hermione spoke sarcastically, trying to keep the energy light, though this topic of discussion was anything but light. She turned to her two friends who looked equally as perplexed and stressed about the situation like Blaise and Pansy. “Harry? Ginny? What do you think?”</p>
<p>“I’m afraid I feel rather stuck,” Harry spoke up as he glanced at his quiet fiancée. He had hoped to receive some sort of assurance from her, but all she could do was look down at her hands. Who knew what was going on in her mind? While it wasn’t clear, Hermione knew that she desperately needed to find out. “I want you to be happy, Hermione. I just want you to be happy with someone…”</p>
<p>“Someone who isn’t me?” Draco asked, now feeling insulted by Harry’s careful choice of words.</p>
<p>“Someone whose family isn’t dangerous. Who’s to say that they won’t start needling you both when they find out. I care about you, Hermione. I want what’s best for you, and if this relationship is what’s best—”</p>
<p>“It is. This is what I want.” Hermione interrupted, which only caused Harry to continue.</p>
<p>“…then I support it, with caution.”</p>
<p>The living room was quiet now. They had gone around the whole room, asking everyone for their opinions. While it seemed like they couldn’t get along at all, the one thing they all did manage to agree on was their weariness and/or disapproval for the couple standing before them. Funny how that seemed to work.</p>
<p>Ginny, on the other hand, chose not to speak, and instead excused herself from the company. Harry had started to stand up to go after her, but hermione stepped forward, placing a hand up to ensure that she would handle it. Hermione traveled to the nearby bathroom that Ginny had tucked herself away in and stuck her head in when seeing it was ajar.</p>
<p>The red haired witch was standing in front of the sink, her arms crossed as she faced the door. It seemed like she were anticipating her arrival, because as soon as Hermione made herself known, she spoke without thinking.</p>
<p>“What the fuck is going on, Hermione?” Ginny snapped, all her frustrations from tonight rising within her. “First you invite Blaise and Pansy into my home without my knowledge, and then this?”</p>
<p>“Can you honestly say you didn’t have the slightest hunch that something more was going on between us?” Hermione whispered to her friend frantically. “You said so yourself. You saw us on Valentine’s Day. Something must have clicked for you.”</p>
<p>Ginny huffed at the statement and shook her head.</p>
<p>“I thought you would at least tell me. You didn’t even bother. And what about this Tom bloke? We never even got the chance to see how you two meshed together.”</p>
<p>Hermione sighed heavily and braced herself for more questions that she didn’t even expect to come forth. Well, at least not in this way.</p>
<p>“Draco is Tom..er…Tom is Draco, oh you get the point!”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you say something then? In the bridal shop? We were alone!”</p>
<p>“Because I didn’t want you to be upset! You kept going on and on about how you thought that maybe one day, Ron and I might mend things and get back together. And it hurt because I know for a fact that we wouldn’t. At all. So I was apprehensive because I didn’t want you to react in this same exact way!”</p>
<p>“I’m reacting like this because you didn’t tell me,” Ginny shouted but then covered her face in shame. There was so much surrounding the two of them. So much tension, anger, and hurt between the friends. Hermione wondered why it had to be this way, though. Did they not think people could change? No, Ginny wasn’t close-minded like that. If anything, it felt more like there was some sort of hope lingering in the girl’s energy. “This just all seems to be happening so soon. Just in December you were accused of breaking up Draco’s wedding and just a month before that, you broke up with Ron. I just need to know if you’re doing this to get back at Ron for not proposing when you wanted him to, or if this is some kind of phase. He was so awful to you, Hermione. I don’t want that for you. I want more.”</p>
<p>Hermione could feel herself tearing up. She knew that ultimately her feelings and loyalty still lied with Ron, and she knew she couldn’t compete with that. Nor did she want to. Ron was her brother, and he always will be. So at any moment when she felt that he were being slighted, she defended him. It was moments like these that Hermione wished she had an older sibling, or a sibling in general to back her up in this regard. But instead, she had no mum, no dad, friends who saw her as incapable of making her own decisions, and her boyfriend who seemed to be the only one supporting her through it all.</p>
<p>“I’m not getting back at Ron. If I’m being quite honest, Ron and I were destined for a break-up way before we even actually did split up,” Hermione started. Her mind trickled to the words that were stuck in the back of her throat, forming an uncomfortable lump. “One time when Draco and I were just friends, he and I found ourselves stuck in such an odd situation, literally. And it was just this moment when it felt like the entire world stopped, and it was just the two of us together but it felt like we only existed in this world with each other. And I couldn’t deny it anymore. I couldn’t pretend that he didn’t mean anything to me when he meant a great deal,” Hermione noticed the look that her friend gave. It was one of both understanding but also misunderstanding all in one. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that in depth.”</p>
<p>Ginny stood there, staring at her friend without a single word given to her. Instead, she struggled with a reply to her friend’s explanation. What else was there to say? She couldn’t counter her friend’s argument, considering that Hermione’s words even made her believe that there could’ve been an inkling of love towards the blonde man in her living room. Hermione, who had completely forgotten she was still wearing the small sorting hat from the game, froze when feeling it begin to tremble just above her head.</p>
<p>“Oh, I forgot about that.” She spoke. Hermione realized she wouldn’t get much of an answer, or even an answer at all from her friend about how she felt. So the only thing Hermione found possible to do next was to try and divert the conversation. “What is it?”</p>
<p>An undeniable feeling came over Ginny at the sight that she could only describe as humor but with bits of annoyance within her as well. Hermione had explained how she felt about Draco, but it became even more clear to her, the more she looked into her friend’s eyes. Ginny wouldn’t tell Hermione, as she was still trying to piece certain things together for herself, but the only thing Ginny could see in Hermione’s eyes and demeanor from just talking about Draco made her feel less hard towards her intelligent soul, especially with the small Cupid floating above her head, accompanied by pink little hearts. Ginny, instantly remembering Hermione’s question about what had just appeared, cleared her throat and looked her friend in the eyes that held something Ginny hadn’t really seen from her before.</p>
<p>“Love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello, so sorry for the late update. Life has been pretty insane lately and I’m trying to catch up and get myself back on track slowly but surely. I hope you all can understand. Either way, thank you for all your support and love towards SOSN. It’s always appreciated. Happy New Year to you all Xx—</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco and Blaise have a one-on-one discussion days after the dinner party, and Hermione brings Draco to her hometown.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>MARCH</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Draco tried his very best to not be too bitter about his departure from his flat. He had grown to love it, yes, but he had only moved in less than three months ago. He only had one major memory with Hermione here and that was all. But still, they made plenty more memories in the confines of her home. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that was able to make such a small living space feel like home, but she did it. And effortlessly, too. But still, while he tried to think of the bright side towards it all, it still didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. He was twenty-four and ready to take on the world, but his family had the tightest leash on him. But not for long. He vowed diligently that this would be the final straw for him. The nail in the coffin, of sorts. If his family wanted to ostracize him for the way he felt about Hermione, he would have to go along with it. Even if it often times upset him more than he knew.</p><p>The boxes he had packed so far were all full with trinkets and items that he bought with his own money. And next to them with other medium sized boxes with his clothing items inside. As he continued to fold, he wondered anxiously were Blaise was. The man who he was at odds with was supposed to be here to assist him in moving his things. His original plan was to stay the few nights at Blaise and Pansy’s before eventually hopping over to the Leaky Cauldron during his search for a new home. While he wasn’t fond of the loops and jumps he would have to do in order to find shelter, he knew he had to. He needed a place to stay, and he was set on utilizing his options, even if he couldn’t take his main one.</p><p>His train of thought trailed to the young woman he had immense feelings for. Her soft curls and gentle, smiling eyes were always his main focus. He knew that with one look if she gave it to him long enough, she would get everything she needed to know about his situation out of him. And that scared him. The one person in his life that brought him an intense amount of comfort, and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to tell her about the most crucial moment occurring in his life.</p><p>Soon, as he stood in the large, empty loft, Draco paused when hearing someone apparate just from behind him. The last time this had happened, it was his mother coming to deliver not-so-pleasant news about his father. But taking in the silence, he feared that this time it was one of his own parents that have come back to haunt him. He turned around quickly, a profound urge to come to sight with whoever was present, and felt his body relax when seeing Blaise.</p><p>In typical Blaise fashion, he had begun mulling over the items in Draco’s boxes, snooping here and there as he picked up random items and other articles of clothes, some of which were obviously personal.</p><p>“Need help ?” Blaise asked dryly. He wasn’t oblivious to Draco’s frustration with him, but he also would be lying if he said he didn’t find it a tad bit silly, too.</p><p>“I’m fine.” Draco forced out, still folding his clothes. For some reason, with Blaise here, the reality of it all seemed to hit him harder now.</p><p>“Suit yourself,” Blaise spoke. There was an enjoyable silence between the two friends for a moment until Draco could hear snickering coming from Blaise. He turned around to face him, and in Blaise’s grip was a pair of Draco’s underwear. “Didn’t really peg you as the boxer-brief type, mate.”</p><p>The embarrassed blonde quickly rushed over to his friend, grabbing the underwear and tossing it down into the box that he had taken them out of. Fury came over him at his friend’s ease in poking through his things. An action that would have once made him laugh was now the subject of his anger.</p><p>“Knock it off.” Draco said simply, trying not to let his anger come out through his words, though it was purely evident in his actions. Blaise, now not willing to handle anymore of his friend’s nonsense decided that it was best to give him back the same energy.</p><p>“You have something to say?” Blaise asked, squaring himself in front of Draco who stepped further to his friend. The two men, both annoyed at the other for different reasons, looked almost like two siblings that were fighting about something insidious. But it wasn’t just that. It was something far more.</p><p>“As a matter of fact, I do. You were a real prat for that dinner party stunt.”</p><p>“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Blaise snarled. It was a lie. He did know what Draco was talking about.</p><p>“Calling us out like that in front of everyone and then having the audacity to turn to Hermione when I wouldn’t give you an answer.”</p><p>“Jeez, these points you’re making aren’t that strong. You sure you’re not just ashamed of me as a friend?”</p><p>“I’m ashamed of your behavior! And it’s worse that you did all that in Potter’s home.”</p><p>Draco turned his back from his friend and walked back to the boxes, this time packing his things a bit faster now, and not caring to fold them neatly. What point would it serve? He was too upset. And while Draco did try to stop the anger from flowing through his veins considering Blaise was offering him a place to stay, he just couldn’t help it. His behavior was honestly ghastly.</p><p>From behind him, Draco heard Blaise’s footsteps nearing him and soon saw the man in front of him, a genuine mixed look of concern and annoyance on his friend’s face. It was something that he had never quite seen before. Blaise was usually the cool friend. The friend who rarely gave a damn about much, and even then, large things rarely got much emotion out of him, too. But now, he was different. And he couldn’t help but think it was all because of who Draco was now involved with.</p><p>“I’m trying to save your arse, Draco. You’re the one out here tossing your entire life away because of some girl.”</p><p>
  <em>Some girl. </em>
</p><p>The words hung in the air between the two men like a sour stench. The words, so bland and plain gave no justice to the impact of the woman he felt so strongly for. How dare he? Blaise didn’t know Hermione the way he did. He didn’t know the intricacies of their relationship that made it so beautiful, as well as so damn complicated. He had no idea the lengths that Draco would go to for her, or what he was so easily willing to throw away for Hermione. So for him to call her just <em>some girl</em> was an insult. Not only was it an insult, it was simply wrong. Discovering this, the anger that was stirring within Draco had then bubbled and came rushing up the back of his throat and exploded out of him.</p><p>“She’s not just some girl! She’s the best fucking thing to happen to me. Ever. You have never seen the way she has helped me, or the way that we could just be when together,” Draco hadn’t realized he was shouting until he took a pause. But he found it too late to stop himself. “And I think I might even fucking love her. And…and…ah fucking forget it! I don’t have to explain myself to you! I have enough on my plate.”</p><p>It surprised Draco heavily how calm Blaise was to his sudden outburst. Blaise had been the only person in his grade who challenged Draco whenever he lost his temper or yelled at him. But to see him so stoic and rested made Draco wonder if he had even said anything at all. Maybe he thought it all in his head? Yet, this theory had been shot down once he saw Blaise take a few slow steps towards him, neither menacing nor in an attempt to intimidate him. He was simply trying to understand the man.</p><p>“If you care so much about her, then why haven’t you told her anything about the situation with your father?”</p><p>Draco narrowed his eyes as he took in his friend’s words. It was as though Blaise took a page out of Potter’s books of ideologies or some nonsense like that. He wasn’t sure what he was searching for as he looked at his friend, but he knew his answer would remain the same as he had first spoken it.</p><p>“I’ll tell you exactly what I told Potter when he asked me the same damn thing. I don’t want to lose Hermione. At all.”</p><p>Draco watched the man’s expression on his face change. Blaise, the once calm and neutral party raised his eyebrows in shock at his friend’s revelation. In this moment of shock, anger and annoyance, jealousy decided to take the forefront.</p><p>“What, so you and Potter are friends now? Is that it? Taking advice from The Boy Who Lived?”</p><p>“I know it might be difficult for you, Blaise, but maybe you should try to think about someone other than yourself.” Draco spoke matter of factly as he took out his wand and sealed his last box closed.</p><p>“You’re one to talk! You’re walking around here with a chip on your shoulder because your parents no longer see you as the perfect son anymore. And on top of that, you won’t even tell the one person that you like or love or whatever the fuck you call it because you don’t want to lose her,” Blaise’s words were harsh and full of spite. It was at this moment that Draco decided that maybe he needed to listen. “And at this rate, there’s no evidence of you even planting the seed about your father in order to start the conversation. I bet the first time Hermione’s heard an inkling about your parents was at that bloody dinner party while you sit and wait for your problems to solve themselves. Well here’s a thought, you twit: They won’t. You’re so afraid of losing something good that you walk around here doing everything that might result in actually losing them!”</p><p>For a moment, once the words had settled into the air and finished coming from Blaise, Draco looked at his friend. All the drinking, the late night sleepovers when he was down on his luck about his father was because he was too selfish to be honest with the first girl he ever actually felt that he might love. But now, he was keeping something this crucial from her and was now at the point of no return. He had nowhere to call home, nowhere to turn to as much as he wanted to fold into Hermione’s embrace. But Blaise was standing right there, and he was right. He didn’t want to hear it, but he knew he needed to.</p><p>Draco hung his head in slight shame and watched as his friend took a step away from him carefully. Blaise was visibly surprised in himself, as well, for the way that he spoke to Draco, but neither of them said anything as the words resonated deep within both of them. So, Blaise forced himself to make eye contact with his friend and gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.</p><p>“You’re still welcome to come over, if you want.” Blaise spoke, and soon after that, he was gone. The only thing Draco could do after hearing Blaise’s words was internalize them and realize that he was right. But even after discovering this, it didn’t make his impending actions any easier to him. If anything, it made it that much more difficult.</p><p> </p><p>—-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It was rare that Draco had ever been speechless, even in the slightest. He had seen all that he felt he could possibly see in the area where he lived. He knew about the nooks and crannies of most run down areas and alleyways, and about the major attractions, as well. But now, Draco felt that he hadn’t seen anything at all when he first set foot in Muggle London. Hermione, who was a professional Muggle in this world, found it quite entertaining watching Draco’s face as he took it all in. There was so much that Draco didn’t understand. Hermione had led him to a circus, at least that’s what Draco thought it was, despite Hermione calling it a ‘fair’. Loads of people lined the area, eating, talking, having fun. It was quite the spectacle, but as fun as it was to watch, it was a tad bit overwhelming to the blonde. He was new to all of this, but he didn’t mind being tossed into her world while they were in it.</p><p>The couple had found their way to a vendor on the street who was stuck in a large box with wheels. It looked as though it moved, and there were people lined up at multiple of these for what Draco could only figure was for food. A smell, something Draco had never really experienced before, came from all the food trucks and mixed with one another. A meaty, sweet and well-seasoned blend didn’t exactly bode well with the man, but he didn’t want to protest and take away from any of the fun they were supposed to be having. Besides, they needed it.</p><p>Ever since Blaise and Draco spoke, or better yet fought, he knew that there was no other way to handle this situation. He would have to tell Hermione, and tell her soon. It had only been about two days since he started sleeping on Blaise’s sofa, but he could already tell he was invading on the couple’s privacy. He had heard, unintentionally, the couple make various attempts to engage in their most private moments, but stop and eventually leave their bedroom to enjoy their time with him. Draco felt bad, he truly did. He didn’t want to be babysat. Sometimes, Draco felt it were better for him if they just pretended he weren’t there. But alas, he was— eating dinner with them whenever he didn’t stay the night with Hermione, and sharing a bathroom in the early mornings as the three of them scrambled to get ready for work. But he was appreciative to his friend for allowing him to stay at his home, and also for the advice that was given. He knew ultimately that the time would soon come where he would have to tell Hermione about his father.</p><p>“What do you want?” Hermione asked, which startled the young man greatly. There were plenty of things he wanted. He wanted to know what it would feel like to share a living space with Hermione, and he wanted to know what it would feel like to finally get all of this off of his chest. But Draco knew that Hermione wasn’t asking him in that sense. She was referencing the vendor that she stood in front of. He tried to look at the board, hoping to decide on something to make himself look less touristy and more like he was from around here, but he fell short when looking at the words. Hotdogs. Corn dogs. Chili dogs. Cheesy chips. Deep fried Mars bars?</p><p>Though it were in English, it looked like complete gibberish to the wizard who gave a sort of cool shrug of his shoulder to his girlfriend.</p><p>“Whatever you’re having, I guess.”</p><p>A sly grin came to Hermione’s face as she looked at him. He knew that look. She was impressed with him, while also still keeping an eye out for any sort of break through he might have about how he was truly feeling. But either way, he loved that look of hers. It was often the look she gave when they play fight and tussle in the bed together, which eventually led to much more.</p><p>“You sure?” She asked.</p><p>Draco gave a confident nod and turned away from her, hearing a startling sound come from nearby. The sound of children screaming to the top of their lungs in what he felt was sheer panic. He had initially reached inside his coat pocket for his wand, but stopped himself when remembering where he were. The sounds grew louder as he crept away from the food stand, hearing the screams occasionally get further from him and draw nearer than ever. But still, no one around him seemed to have heard it. How terrifying. Had he finally lost it?</p><p>Draco reached an area a decent way away from Hermione and found himself standing near a strange contraption. There were children in different colored boxes that moved on what looked like small train tracks. The boxes, which held about eight children closely sat together took off and soon they were following along the tracks, being lifted in the air with force and then sent downhill with loops and turns of all different kinds. The children erupted in screams once more, and Draco noticed a mother nearby taking photographs in giddy delight.</p><p>“Oh, Greg, did you see Gina’s face! She’s so scared!” She chuckled.</p><p>Draco snarled and walked over to the couple who laughed and continued taking pictures as the children came back around once more, slowly this time, and then taking off again rather quickly. He stood by the couple and narrowed his eyes at them.</p><p>“What’s so funny about a scared child?” Draco asked harshly as he looked at them. The couple, clearly taken back by the clothes Draco wore, gave him one final look over before addressing him.</p><p>“It’s a rollercoaster, you prick! If you hate it so much, don’t put your child on it!”</p><p>Draco glanced at the boxes again and watched as the children, some of them dizzy, stumbled out of the boxes and over to their parents. One child even bent over immediately after their departure, though Draco turned away to avoid the view of any sight of vomit and saw Hermione rushing over to him. Her arms were full with two cups and she carried a white paper bag under her arm. Catching sight of him, she rushed over and he instantly felt relaxed.</p><p>“I’ve been looking for you!” She spoke, rushing to his side. “You alright?”</p><p>“I uh…I heard children screaming and I sort of panicked.” He confessed softly. “But it was just a coast of rolls or whatever the fuck that guy said.”</p><p>Hermione tried her best to force away the smile she felt coming to her face.</p><p>“A <em>rollercoaster</em>,” She corrected softly. “I probably should’ve warned you about everything you’d see today. That’s my own fault.”</p><p>“Who would put something as delicate as a child on this thing anyways? It looks positively terrifying.” Draco remarked as he watched more kids scrambled inside the boxes and strap themselves in for another ride. Why would anyone willingly put themselves through such an event?</p><p>“It’s all apart of the fun,” Hermione grinned as she nudged him. “We can go on one later, if you want.”</p><p>Draco turned and saw other rollercoasters nearby. He had thought the first one he saw was frightening, but he nearly fainted when seeing the others. A huge wheel spinning around and around slowly, though, with buckets dangling with people inside. He gulped a bit and turned to Hermione, noticing the food in her hands and suddenly remembering the vomiting child.</p><p>“Maybe next time, yeah?” He asked while Hermione gave an understanding smile at him. It was clear to Hermione that perhaps a small town fair wasn’t the brightest way for her to introduce Draco into the Muggle world without proper explanations for everything he saw. But then, she realized how impossible it would’ve been to prepare him for such. She had given him small warnings about the technology differences, and what to expect like cell phones and boom boxes, all of which still surprised him as he saw them in person. But here is where she felt he drew the line. Perhaps a quieter setting would suit them best. And so, the thought rushed forth in Hermione’s head faster than she could even wrap her hands around it. “Maybe after we eat we can go somewhere a little quieter?”</p><p>Draco took the hotdog that Hermione had handed him and inspected it cautiously. Was it a sandwich? What in the bloody hell was it? He mimicked the way Hermione took a bite from hers and chewed through the taste. It wasn’t like anything he had ever tasted before. He never had meat that was soft and in an unnatural shape before, but he pulled through just for Hermione’s enjoyment mostly, and nodded in her direction. Maybe he could use some quiet after such a high energy place like this.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It took them about two buses to get where Hermione was guiding them, and frankly, Draco was happy for that. The hotdog hadn’t set right in his stomach, and he needed all the time he could get to digest it to the best of his ability. But still, even if the taste wasn’t what he expected, he still put on a brave face and even devoured its battered and deep fried counterpart on a stick. The first bus they were on passed by a girls school with uniforms that made him think of their Hogwarts days. While he was happy to be an adult with a career and everything now, he knew that his life would’ve changed completely had he and Hermione been friends throughout their years. Sometimes he even thinks he wouldn’t have been a Death Eater if he had been her friend.</p><p>Once they had switch to the other bus, they took a seat behind a mother and her small daughter. The girl, possibly around the age two, was so sweet in the face and had the most charming smile. She took profound joy in turning around every chance she got to stare at the two people and even wave at Draco before her mother who was chatting away on her cell phone made her stop. The scene, so funny to Hermione, brought joy into Draco’s heart. He could see the admiration in her eyes when she looked at the child, and wondered greatly what her views were on that. He had started to ask her, but then figured that perhaps he should pace himself. One important conversation at a time.</p><p>Once Draco and Hermione got off the bus, and he was grateful for this, they walked just as the night sky had started to grow a bit more dim with the passing of time. There were few people walking about, as he noticed they were in a residential neighborhood. And so, this confused him. They were once in such a densely populated metropolitan area, and now they were in the suburbs. But why? Draco glanced at Hermione, seeing her face now serious in the quiet neighborhood. She didn’t look angry, nor did she look sad, but rather cautious.</p><p>“Did you go to fair often?” Draco asked, his voice in almost a whisper. Though they were alone, it felt fitting for the situation they were in currently. Hermione seemed glad that he had distracted her momentarily for her train of thought and looked at her boyfriend.</p><p>“All the time when I was younger. They aren’t that fun when it’s a bit chilly outside, but otherwise in the summer it’s the perfect place to be,” She smiled. “Did you enjoy your first taste of Muggle society?”</p><p>Draco chuckled from the question, and realized he was unsure of how to answer it. He didn’t have a bad time. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed himself. He just ran out of energy with so many people around and nearly used his wand in front of everyone else. That would’ve been a disaster.</p><p>“I did,” He nodded, a small smile crossing his face, which was soon accompanied by a serious question. “Do you miss it?”</p><p>“It?” Hermione asked with a raise of her brow.</p><p>“Being back here. Do you miss it?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” Hermione spoke, her attention turning to the street that they had now gotten deeper into. It took the witch a few more moments to finish her train of thought as they continued passing houses and houses that lined the street. “I mostly miss this.”</p><p>Draco stopped walking just like Hermione did and stood rather confused at a bunch of trees that were flowing gracefully in the faint wind. He wasn’t quite sure what she meant.</p><p>“You miss what?”</p><p>Hermione looked around and took out her wand as she grew nearer to the trees, and whispered an incantation. Soon, in the trees, a large house appeared and made itself known to the couple. Hermione glanced over her shoulder once more and walked to the door, opening it. The two of them rushed inside as Hermione then recast the spell.</p><p>The house, which was empty and quiet, felt homey for some odd reason. He turned to face Hermione who had a nostalgic look about her and soon it dawned on him. He was standing in her childhood home. The home she had left just before the war. The last place she had probably ever been able to speak to her parents freely.</p><p>“I grew up here.” She nodded, sensing Draco’s silent question. He tried his best to not show a pained emotion on his face, but he couldn’t help it. A home that she had left unwillingly was now a home vacant with nothing left in it but memories. “I used to come here a lot a few years ago. I would stay and watch the sunset sometimes, but then it got so lonely. I only ever came here on my own to just feel connected to them, and then I stopped. It became too painful.”</p><p>“You brought <em>me</em> here?” Draco tried his best to hide how surprised he were. Realizing that this was the house that Hermione grew up in, he felt honored but at the same time he also felt taken back.</p><p>“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “I wanted to show you where I’ve come from. It’s important that you see this because…well…this is a part of me that very few people get to see. And I wanted to share this with someone that I lo— with you.”</p><p>Draco gulped once feeling his throat get dry from her ‘almost’ words. The same words that he had shamelessly confessed to Blaise about her were caught on the tip of her tongue, even though she ultimately caught herself. There was a possibility that Hermione might love him, and though it was unconfirmed, it left a good feeling within him, but it also left guilt. He looked outside at the window and noticed the sun getting ready to set. He sucked in a quick breath as though he were asking the last question he would ever conjure to the witch, and then spoke.</p><p>“Do you want to stay and watch the sunset?”</p><p> </p><p>Hermione swore in a sort of mellow happiness that her room was the best view for the sunset. And it was. It looked as though it were in pristine order as though she had just left it, but more importantly; It was her. A glorious view with a writing desk right at her window. And books. Stacks and stacks of Muggle books that hadn’t been touched in years. Hermione figured the only way she could easily get her parents to forget her completely was by concealing her bedroom just like she had eventually concealed the whole house. Therefore, her bedroom felt more like a museum of Hermione’s prized possessions that she couldn’t bring with her along her journey.  </p><p>Hermione rushed over to her bed and faced the window in silence. The sun, which had started its progress to set, was beginning to take its toll over the whole town, making Draco sit beside her to take in the view. In the silence, Draco fought with his conflicted feelings on this moment. Times like this, he knew that silence was easiest and most of the time preferred when absorbing things such as this, but he wanted to know more about her family. Draco only ever got the shortened version and explanation of what happened to them just before the war started. But he never got the chance to know them through her memory. He figured that maybe if he would never see his parents again, he would have loved to know more about hers.</p><p>“What were your parents like?” He asked, his voice not fitting in too well with the situation they were in currently, but Hermione didn’t mind. As a matter of fact, she was thinking of her parents right at this moment.</p><p>“Oh wow, well...” Hermione trailed off, trying to figure out who to start with first. “My mum was a very ambitious woman. A good mother. I think I told you that I got my event planning skills from her. But besides that, she was so kind. She was the one who found out that I was a witch and nearly collapsed. She was always so careful with me because I was her only child, and she was her parents only child. It got passed down unintentionally, I assume,” Hermione smiled at the small memory and then continued. “She would’ve liked you, I think.”</p><p>Those words, so foreign and never-before heard when directed at him. He had never heard it from Pansy, but then again what they had was such a “puppy love” type of arrangement. But with Astoria? He never heard it, either. He was rarely ever considered when it came to his own engagement. But with Hermione? Man. Those words meant a lot mostly because she meant so much to him.</p><p>“You think so?” Draco asked, not taking his eyes off the sunset for fear that if he looked at Hermione, he would get far too emotional.</p><p>“I know so.”</p><p>Draco paused for a moment, his mind tracing over to his father, now. If only he could see him now, sharing the beautiful views of the sunset with Hermione. Lucius’ Dark Mark would reveal itself off of just the thought alone.</p><p>“And your dad?”</p><p>Hermione smiled a bit wider with memories of him, and again, it was quite the sight to behold.</p><p>“My dad would’ve liked you, too.” Hermione nodded.</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t mean—”</p><p>“No, I know you didn’t. Just thought you should know that he would,” She smiled. “He was quiet, sort of like you. Well, both my parents were, actually. But my dad’s mind was always running with thoughts. He was very analytical. Extremely analytical. He loved golfing a whole lot.”</p><p>“Golfing?”</p><p>“It’s this sport where you hit a ball with a stick.”</p><p>“So like Quidditch?”</p><p>“Certainly not like Quidditch,” Hermione smirked before going back to reminisce on her parents. “My dad showed me a lot about the world. My mother was mostly a homebody so she enjoyed staying in the house more than going out, so my dad and I seized the moments and we would venture out on our own most days.”</p><p>“Is that your fondest memory of them?”</p><p>Hermione paused for a moment and reminisced briefly before turning to her boyfriend and shaking her head. It wasn’t hard for her to pinpoint her fondest memory, but it was difficult to discuss it.</p><p>“Is it bad that my fondest memory of them was when I was leaving,” She asked, though continued on once Draco met her question with silence. “I had left here after I obliviated my parents’ memory of me. On my way out the front door, I had accidentally bumped against it after I left. I had tried to walk fast down the street, and I heard my dad’s voice call out to me. So I turned around with every bit of strength that I had, and I saw my dad. And he just looked curious, maybe he thought I knocked or something, but he called out to me as I was making my way down the street and he asked if I had come to their door. I sort of gave him a look and told him I had the wrong house and he smiled at me. He told me to have a great day, like he told me everyday whenever I left the house. It took everything in me to not rush towards him and take it all away. To force myself back into his memory. But I just couldn’t risk them getting hurt.”</p><p>It was so strange hearing of a relationship so pure that someone actually had with their parents, to the point where leaving them was completely devastating. He had thought his whole life that parents were supposed to be strict and sometimes cruel, especially with their feelings. They called it tough love, but Hermione’s parents seemed to just give her love. And it was love that made Hermione choose the fate that she did. This often made Draco curious as to what type of parent he would one day become, and the thought often made him so insecure. He had found himself lost in the transom of his parents and the way he was brought up, but refocused himself when hearing Hermione speak once again.</p><p>“I know I said that they would’ve loved you, but you would’ve loved them, too.”</p><p>The idea was so strange to him. Even stranger than the hotdog that he had eaten earlier. He knew that if her parents were anything like Hermione, he would be fond of them, as well. But it was so hard to tell. He only had the faintest idea of what they looked like from riding off the memory of the first time he saw them. If only he could. He would love to know more about Hermione, like the stories she forgot to tell about her childhood, or the baby pictures that had been wiped away by such a powerful curse. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt that maybe he shouldn’t even deserve the honor, should it ever arise. He had kept a part of him that was so important as a secret from her for so long. And now, here they were—sitting on her old bed and gazing out the window as the sun began to set right before their eyes.</p><p>“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hermione remarked. Draco swallowed hard, knowing his fate was coming much sooner than expected. When he looked at Hermione in that moment, he saw Hermione differently. He wasn’t sure then if he loved her, but staring at her as her skin glowed the colors of the resting sun, Draco knew. He knew that maybe the intricacies of love were still something he were gathering a hold onto, but something was there, lurking within him deeper than anything he had felt before. And he loved it as much as it scared him. And then, like clockwork, the fear escalated as he positioned himself to speak. There was no right way for him to do this. He just needed to say it. Now.</p><p>“I got denied…for the Potions position.” Draco blurted. Hermione, who was once so in tune with her view turned and faced her boyfriend carefully. She was sad, but she wasn’t babying him. Instead, she placed a comforting hand on his and searched for the right thing to say. She didn’t ask why or even showcase the slightest bit of frustration towards his denial. Draco liked that. She still cared, but she wasn’t focused on being so forthcoming with her emotions that she took away from how Draco was feeling.</p><p>“Maybe I can write a really convincing letter.” She offered, though let go of the thought when seeing Draco attempt to wave off the option.</p><p>“No, no, it’s fine. At least I still have the Ministry, you know?”</p><p>“Yes, but you were so excited. This can’t possibly be where this ends.”</p><p>“For now it is,” Draco started. He tried to force himself to look back at the sunset, ignoring the more obvious and enchanting view beside him as he plucked up a bit more courage to speak his next piece. “There’s something else, too.”</p><p>Draco froze as Hermione’s hand reached his face and turned him to face her. She was smiling at him with big, honest eyes that said everything he needed to know about how she’d feel in hearing him out. He didn’t have to hear it, but she reassured him anyways.</p><p>“You know I’m here to listen.”</p><p>A rush of cold slithered throughout the Slytherin’s body. It was all or nothing, and while he was leaning more towards the ‘nothing’, he knew it would hurt him even more later on if he continued to stall.</p><p>“My father is in the process of cutting me off.”</p><p>Draco wasn’t sure if he had made himself clear on the statement. If he were being honest with himself, he hadn’t heard the words that came from his own mouth, though judging from Hermione’s expression, he certainly did say something, at least.</p><p>“What do you mean? Cutting you off how?”</p><p>“He had me return the key to my flat as a reimbursement for me...uh...pissing him off.”</p><p>Hermione studied her boyfriend carefully, seeing the blank look on his face. He didn’t seem as upset as she thought he would be, and she figured that were because of a few options. Either (1), he had been sitting on this revelation for so long that he had severed any emotional ties towards it or (2), he was in shock. No matter how it played out, Hermione was mostly concerned for him and every detail tied to this case.</p><p>“How did something like this even happen?”</p><p>Yeah, how <em>did</em> it even happen? He never thought his father would ever resort to this or be as cruel and vile to him for just the thought of him being around Hermione in that way. And now after their clear commitment, he wondered of all the things his father would say or even do if he knew the extent of their relationship. But as he sat with Hermione, thinking back on how she had relived her parents in such a positive light, the guilt returned. Or maybe it never really left. She had just had such an intimate and private moment with him, taking him to a place she hardly took anyone, and now he was ruining it with something that should’ve been said a long time ago. Draco tensed up, shaking his head at her thought and tried to redact his statement.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“Draco!” Hermione shouted, feeling herself becoming frustrated with him now. Draco sensed it, and knew that she was obligated to how she was feeling. He couldn’t just bring something like this up and then not tell her. So he gathered his courage, or what was left of it, and looked into Hermione’s eyes. Then, he decided to speak.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hey! So sorry I’ve been gone for a bit. Just trying to get back into the groove of things since life’s been sort of hectic on my end. I’m catching up with a lot of my writing and taking care of myself and my family. But enough of that, here’s another chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for your kind words and kudos! You’re all so special to me and help motivate me. Love Xx—</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione struggles with the guilt from her past and present, while Draco gains some insight about the future of their relationship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The journey back to Hermione’s flat was a dull one. Neither Draco nor Hermione spoke a word to the other, and even so, neither of them even looked at each other during the commute. Draco found himself looking out of the windows of the bus they rode with so many curiosities plaguing him, though he dared not ask Hermione what they were. Despite that she were sitting right beside him, he missed her. He missed how their day had gone from lively and fun, full of trust and oneness to just an uncomfortable silence that lingered in the air. They had yet to have their first fight as a couple, but when Draco told Hermione about his father and what he was doing as a result of them dating, she didn’t take it well. She called Lucius a few names, names that he deserved, but then flipped to this determined silence. A silence that stirred Draco uneasily.</p><p>Man did he hate it.</p><p>He had grown used to being iced out by his father for such small things, and now he was experiencing it with his own girlfriend. He wondered if this was how Muggle couples had to deal with public fights. Did they just sit in silence on their way home to hash things out in private? Did some for them fight on their way home, causing a public show of some sort?</p><p>Having arrived back at Hermione’s flat, the brunette had originally opened the door calmly and intended to walk inside without speaking to Draco, but he quickly grabbed hold of her hand and tried turning her around. He couldn’t just let her leave without knowing exactly what was on her mind. Hermione stiffened from his touch, though her face was no longer neutral. She seemed angry. Completely upset, and this alarmed him. With the hour or so of silence between them gone, he had no idea where to start.</p><p>“So we just aren’t talking now?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow to her. He didn’t understand. Didn’t she understand the courage he had tried to conjure up to tell her about this in the first place? Sure, he admitted he was stalling before, but at least he told her, right?</p><p>Right?</p><p>“I don’t know where to begin,” Hermione spoke softly. She searched quietly for the right words and then gave a small shrug when she supposed she had found them. “It doesn’t make me happy that your parents are so quick to do this. You deserve to have a family, Draco.”</p><p>A small sigh escaped the man as he heard her, but didn’t listen. Hermione was being her usual selfless self, and with it came a bunch of kindness that made her logic that much more admirable. But Draco couldn’t help but see how wrong she was. Yes, he needed a family. But he’d rather make one down the line instead of try again with these people. Did he care about possibly not seeing his mother again? Of course. His father? Not so much.</p><p>“I’d rather have <em>you</em> as my family. Crookshanks included.” Draco confessed softly, though seeing the conflict in her eyes, he wondered if perhaps he should’ve kept that bit to himself. Hermione glanced at her other hand which was still gripping her doorknob, and pushed herself inside as she also invited him. The flat was quiet, a little too quiet for another sign of life lurking about. While Hermione and Draco walked over to the couch, heads dancing with one too many thoughts, Crookshanks appeared from down the halls and leapt happily onto the wizard’s lap. Though a love-hate relationship seemed to have formed between the man and the feline, it was as though Crookshanks had heard and agreed with Draco’s proposition for them all to be a family just moments ago. He didn’t understand why that was so tough. “That’s all I need.”</p><p>“Draco, I’m asking you to reconsider your relationship with your parents. Please. You’re their only son.” Hermione pleaded, which completely surprised Draco. Never would he have ever thought that Hermione would be pushing him to go in the direction of his family despite their hateful views. It just didn’t make sense. She had completely lost it…</p><p>“So what if I’m their only son?”</p><p>“So talk to them! That’s what!” Hermione’s grew louder and Draco could feel himself tensing up. At this point, even Crookshanks stirred uneasily in his lap.</p><p>“What point would that even serve if not to start such a nasty fight?”</p><p>“I don’t know! To mend things I guess? To give them one last chance?”</p><p>“I think you put far too much faith in my family. Their idea of mending things would be me trying to marry Astoria again and taking it from there, to live out my days as heir to Malfoy Manor. I’ve hardly had any real choices in my life as an adult, and my choice is to be here with you.”</p><p>Draco could tell that Hermione was thinking, and perhaps doing too much of that for her own good. She looked genuinely uncomfortable, and maybe even a bit ill if he were being honest with himself. But the one thing he knew for certain was that she was completely unhappy. The unhappiest he had ever seen her with him.</p><p>“I don’t know how to really feel, right now. To know that I’ve broken up your family—”</p><p>“You didn’t break up my family. Pride and prejudice broke up my family. Blood status broke up my family. <em>My family</em> broke up my family.”</p><p>Hermione drew in a slow and steady breath and looked deeply at her partner. While his sentiments were sweet in what he believed in, they didn’t run past her in the right way. She felt guilty for wanting them too while his parents were living without him.</p><p>“Do you just expect to never speak to your parents ever again? Is that it?”</p><p>“Why does it even matter to you?” Draco snarled as he looked her over. He didn’t mean to get as beside himself as he did, but this sensitive topic was supposed to be a one-and-done sort of situation and it was not. He was starting to feel like perhaps she wasn’t understanding him about this. But that option quickly dissipated once seeing the hurt grow in her brown eyes.</p><p>“Draco, I’ve spent the entire day bringing you to my favorite childhood places and I even took the time to show you where I’ve grown up and you still want to ask me why? Do you understand how often I think of my family? How every disagreement I’ve had with my mum or my dad doesn’t even matter now because I haven’t seen them in years,” Hermione’s voice had begun to crack, and in that moment she stood up, trying to bring space between her and the man on her couch. Yet as she had done this, Crookshanks leapt off his lap and followed Hermione diligently across the living room as now they both stared at him. “I may have ruined your wedding, but I won’t ruin your relationship with your parents.”</p><p>Draco stood up and took a few steps towards her, but stopped when Crookshanks began to hiss at his movement.</p><p>“Hermione, come on now.”</p><p>“No, just listen to me on this if you won’t ever listen to me on anything ever again,” Hermione raised a hand to stop him from possibly interrupting her. “I’m not saying that you must have them accept me. I’m not even saying that I want them to. But I feel really guilty for all of this. I feel guilty about my parents not ever remembering me, I feel guilty about the wedding, and now your parents. It’s like I’m the source of everything wrong in my life and yours.”</p><p>Draco couldn’t hide how upset he felt by her words. He could see the guilt stretched across her face, and how deeply this was affecting her. He wasn’t even sure that she were thinking logically on this, even if she claimed she were. And so he rushed towards her, ignoring Crookshanks empty verbal threats, and held her hands in his.</p><p>“But you aren’t. You’re the cause of everything good in my life.” He assured her. But yet, it wasn’t enough. Hermione released her hands from his grip and walked towards her front door. Her eyes were filled with dread as she looked at him this last time as she spoke the most honest words that she felt in that moment.</p><p>“I know what it feels like to lose your parents for good. Your parents, no matter what, will still remember you even if they are cross with you, and yet mine never will. I would never want you to know how that feels, and so I’m asking you to promise me that you’ll at least try one last time.”</p><p>Draco swallowed hard, trying to fully take in what her thought process was. He understood that this was stemming from what happened with her parents and especially the guilt from their entire friendship and the people involved it. Because Draco recognized this, he found it hard to be upset with her for it, but he also felt cheated of his desire to be as angry as possible. He wanted to really lay it on thick with his parents, just as they had done to him.</p><p>“I don’t think I can make that promise to you.” Draco’s voice was low and pained, though completely honest.</p><p>From his words came a deafening silence as he continued to sit, though Hermione was waiting at the front door. Draco couldn’t look at her, for fear of a facial expression that would shatter him. But besides all that, he knew greatly that this was too much of a big deal for them to just sweep under the rug. His mind, once empty, became hyper focused once he heard Hermione begin to speak from behind him.</p><p>“I think I need some time to myself at the moment,” Hermione started. She had started to speak once again, but had sniffled just before doing so. “I hope you can understand.”</p><p>After she spoke, Draco could hear the click of the lock turning, followed by the sound of her front door opening. He managed to look over his shoulder at the sight, with Hermione standing near the doorframe with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She wasn’t looking at him, and he was glad for that. It would’ve made things incredibly more difficult if he had looked into her eyes. But while he was glad that he didn’t, he still wanted to see them. But he decided not to kick up a fuss, and with one last sigh, he rose from his spot on the couch and left out of the front door.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It were moments like this where Hermione wondered whether or not her presence was appropriate, and because of that, she in turn hated how self-aware she had become. In fact, she had become a lot of things she never knew she would become. She was a bit more irritable than other times, and she often found herself short with no one other than herself. But more importantly, she had secluded herself from everyone else when she had found out what she learned about Draco’s parents. The guilt that trickled into her from events occurring just months ago were resurfacing, and soon they clouded her judgment on so much. Hermione had even gone as far as to think hat maybe their coupling were a complete mistake, but shrugged that off. She felt guilty, yes, but she would be crazy to overlook how well they both meshed when together. That part was obvious.</p><p>She was flattered, truly flattered by Draco’s stance when it came to his parents. It was brave. She knew it probably wasn’t easy for him to speak up for himself or defend his beliefs especially when they collided with their archaic ones, and so for that, Hermione grew proud. But she never wanted to be the reason why Draco never spoke to his parents ever again. What if they decided to try again and get back on track? What if, somehow, they ended up having children? Their kids would have no grandparents on either side. It was the complete opposite life that she thought she had all planned out for herself, originally.</p><p>When she and Ron had gotten together, she felt upset when knowing that she would never see her own biological parents ever again, but she also knew that Molly and Arthur were just as different but also as alike to her parents in their own eccentric ways. She grew comfortable knowing she would’ve had such a large family to not distract her from her pain, but mostly help ease it. But she never wanted Draco to know what it felt like to truly be without the ones you love. As much as she hated thinking about what they were probably feeling, she couldn’t stop. Maybe it hurt them just as much as it hurt him to turn their backs on one another? But regardless, she was still the root cause to it all in her eyes, no matter what Draco had said.</p><p>Hermione found solace in her solitude these days, to the point where she had forgotten that Ron’s birthday had passed and that his surprise party was right around the corner. She had every intention of not showing up, to save herself the embarrassment of her former family seeing her as some sort of relationship-ruiner, but was ultimately convinced by Ginny to come. It was something along the lines of not wanting to be the only Weasley girl there without a baby yet that made Hermione’s presence that much more valuable. And so she found herself where she was today, hiding in the dark shadows of the Burrows as everyone else tried their hardest to be silent in anticipation for Ron and Harry’s arrival.</p><p>Ginny, who was crouched down just beside the witch, took notice of how quiet she were and nudged her friend softly in the dark. They had one job—to be quiet— but Ginny could do anything but that when noticing how off Hermione was.</p><p>“You alright?” Ginny whispered as they hid behind the island in the kitchen. They were the only ones taking shelter in that room, and the smells of Molly’s famous cooking definitely made it quite the difficult task to not steal a bite in the dark.</p><p>“Yeah, fine.” Hermione tried her best to sound convincing, though it was obvious that Ginny could see through her, even in the dark. She didn’t know how to tell her friend that she felt this were an insane mistake. She didn’t want her to feel bad, nor did she want to make it awkward for anyone else with her worries.</p><p>“Just relax a bit. It’ll all be fine.” Ginny tried her best to reassure her, though tensed when hearing how snarky Hermione had become.</p><p>“I don’t think one can genuinely be so ‘relaxed’ when showing up to their ex-boyfriend’s surprise birthday party.” Hermione whispered frantically. This dawned on Ginny. The last time Hermione had been to the Burrow was for Charlie’s birthday, where she and Ron barely exchanged words. But now, things were different. They were seeing each other after a reconciliation from the horrid article written by Rita Skeeter.</p><p>“Everything alright with you and Draco?” Ginny asked, becoming especially well versed with calling him by his first name, only for the sake of her friend. Had it not been for her, he still would’ve gotten nicknames such as ‘ferret’ or even just using his last name as her go-to guide for him. But considering they were dating, now, perhaps Ginny could be a little less harsh on the man. Especially since he had shown such devotion to defending Hermione from Blaise at the dinner party. Despite all other feelings, Ginny felt that was pretty decent of him.</p><p>Hermione swallowed, feeling a bit embarrassed by the question. How could she explain to her friend that she had just broken up with the same man that she was so crazy over. So, Hermione drew in a breath and shrugged, though Ginny could barely see the action.</p><p>“We’ve decided to take a small break for now.” Hermione spoke. She hated how she even felt pitiful of herself for the decision, and tried to clean it up for her own sake. “It’s quite healthy, you know. Couples need some time away from each other to sort things out sometimes.”</p><p>Hermione wasn’t exactly happy with that explanation either. How odd it must seem to her friend that they couldn’t even stick out a decision regarding their relationship and instead chose some time apart. But either way, no matter how Ginny or Harry, or any one else in this equation were concerned, Hermione needed this time.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ginny started, then reached out to hold her friend’s hand. The gesture was small but comforting. These days, she didn’t really want to bother Ginny or Harry with her and Draco’s world, mostly because she knew they were getting ready for their wedding, but also because she didn’t exactly know what her friends thought of him. And while it didn’t really matter, it still would’ve been nice to know which side they were leaning towards. They appeared to have been getting along quite nice at some parts during the dinner party, but then all their hopes for the couple had dissolved when their reservations kicked in only after Blaise and Pansy’s words. But right now, Hermione could’ve almost sensed an honest unhappiness from Ginny at the revelation. “What happened?”</p><p>Hermione pulled an uncomfortable face, and thanked the darkness heavily for concealing it. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about Draco while waiting for Ron to arrive for his birthday party. It didn’t seem fair for her to do that. So, instead of talking about him, she allowed herself the silent joy of thinking about him very often through the stillness and silence of the house.</p><p>“I don’t really want to get into it right now,” Hermione whispered. “But we’ll talk about it later.”</p><p>Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted to discuss it or not. It confused her, and it pained her to be away from Draco. But it’s like right now, she felt that she had no choice. She wasn’t the happiest with herself right now and she didn’t want to show it, and talking about Draco only brought herself back to the guilt. So she need not question whether or not she wanted to discuss it later. She knew that ultimately would not. Then, soon after she spoke, the house stirred anxiously.</p><p>“SHHH! Here they come!” Molly shushed rather loudly. Hermione and Ginny rose up a bit, peeking out from over the counter slightly as they caught a good look at the two men approaching the door and quickly slumped back down behind the cabinets. Harry was first, opening it slowly with feigned confusion.</p><p>“Hello?” He called out as he continued to act clueless which garnered the attention of his alert friend. Ron quickly appeared by his side, nervous in his own right, and soon the lights turned on.</p><p>“Surprise!” Everyone called out as they hopped out of place. Hermione and Ginny, though closest to the door, were the last to do so, catching Ron’s sight immediately. The two locked eyes in an uncomfortable stare which appeared to have gone noticed by everyone around them, though Hermione hadn’t noticed. Ron looked about the same, with a growing goatee now. He looked pretty nice, she had to admit it, but seeing him just now was all the more confirmation that her feelings remained unchanged.</p><p>The rest of his family bombarded him with greetings and ‘Happy Birthday’ cheers while Hermione inadvertently got pushed to the back of the house with the rest of their greetings. There she stood with Harry and a few others who waited to wish him well later on, but all Hermione could do was watch. What would she possibly say to him, especially with everyone watching their move?</p><p>Harry glanced at his pensive friend and caught wind of how deep in thought she were. She looked both happy and upset to be there, and he wondered how this could be. It was simple, really. This was the family that Hermione prided herself on being acquainted with for some time now, and seeing Ron while being here in the Burrow just felt so nostalgic. Too nostalgic. She turned away and headed up the stairs to get away for a bit and to recollect herself.</p><p>She wanted a family. That was clear to her, especially since she had missed six, going on seven, birthdays with her parents. She hadn’t been around them to see any new age lines or any vast changes in their appearances. She never knew what to expect if she ever did go back to Australia to see them. Hermione tucked herself away and into a bathroom and held a firm grip on the sink. She wanted to apparate just before the cake would get cut so that she could leave without anyone noticing her departure. But ironically, she planned on avoiding Ron for the entire duration of time tonight. This was, without a doubt, a clear mistake.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Feeling as though things had then become awkward when they initially locked eyes, Hermione let herself out of the bathroom and stopped when seeing Ron coming up the stairs just as she had started to come down. But the former couple both paused, eyeing the other. Ron looked as though he had found his first bit of comfort and relaxation all night since he arrived, and Hermione? Well, quite frankly she was drained white from having bumped into him like this. She swallowed, anticipating her excuse to push up her departure time to now, but Ron gave a half smile and continued walking in her direction.</p><p>“I was just looking for you.”</p><p>“You were?” Hermione blinked, watching him now standing beside her.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re the only one missing from the party,” He remarked with a grin. Hermione couldn’t help but dread the idea of going back downstairs with everyone’s eyes on them. It wasn’t a secret to the house that she and Ron had broken up. But no one but Ginny and Harry knew about her relationship with Draco. She feared that any moment spent alone with Ron would result in her dropping a hint that needed to be kept concealed. So, she frowned at the thought but still tried to remain open. She would bear the awkwardness if it meant going along with the flow. Yet, Ron spotted her hesitance rather quickly. “We don’t have to go back yet if you aren’t ready.”</p><p>Hermione let out a sigh of relief and nodded. She hated to admit that she wasn’t ready yet, but that was just the truth. And so, Hermione found herself traveling up the stairs to the fifth floor where Ron’s old room was, which had now become a shelter for all of Victoire’s toys. The two sat on the steps, a good distance away from the crowd as music and laughter could be heard from down below. And as they sat, both in equal parts quiet and annoyance, Hermione wondered if she made the right decision by even doing this, but rather than obsess over it so fervently, she inhaled and glanced at Ron who had unintentionally been staring at her. Feeling a bit foolish at having been caught, Ron cleared his throat briefly and tried to talk to her. His behaviour reminded her of when they first had gone out on a date together. Though they knew each other for years before they had even started, they still managed to add just the right amount of awkwardness to their first few dates until they finally got the hang of it.</p><p>“Sorry,” Ron spoke with his voice tinged with shame. “You uh…you look really nice tonight is all.”</p><p>Hermione glanced down at her clothes for a moment, originally forgetting her attire, and smirked a bit. There was absolutely nothing special about what she was wearing. The only thing she wore were jeans and a pink sweater, but nonetheless, she accepted the compliment.</p><p>“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Hermione smirked as she nudged him playfully, though still careful to keep things platonic between them. The last thing she wanted was to give Ron mixed signals by her kindness. “How does it feel to finally be twenty-years-old?”</p><p>“Not half bad. I’d ask you for tips on my new age, but you haven’t seen your twenties in quite a while.”</p><p>“Careful, Ron.” Hermione laughed as she eyed him through the fun.</p><p>The joke which had been a bit of harmless fun and a running theme every time they had a birthday was a favorite of hers. Since she were older than Ron by only a couple of months, he prided himself on wishing her a happy birthday years beyond her real age, and for her, she would push his age back as a nod to him being younger than her. It was always good fun, but it was even better knowing that he still kept up with it even after their breakup. So from his response, Hermione simply smiled a bit and let out a content sigh. She was no longer nervous in his presence. He was still the same Ron, and she was still Hermione. They just weren’t together anymore.</p><p>“It’s always good hearing you laugh,” Ron smiled a bit as he looked into her eyes. It had been a while that she had done this, and as she stared, she could almost see the memories they had swim around in his light colored orbs. “I’ve missed it.”</p><p>Hermione didn’t know what to say to this. She feared they were entering into uncharted territory, but couldn’t know for sure. Perhaps Ron was just enjoying the moment they shared. It was their first moment alone in months since their breakup. She had to admit that she missed him, just not in the same way that he probably did.</p><p>“It’s always good seeing you.”</p><p>Ron looked down at his hands for a moment, a shy smile crossing his face as he looked back up at his ex-girlfriend. His fingers were fiddling and she could tell he were trying to convey something to her, but she wasn’t quite picking up on it.</p><p>“I was thinking, you know, maybe the time apart for us was good,” Ron nodded. He drew in a quick breath and shrugged a shoulder to his own thoughts before even vocalizing them to the witch beside him. “Mum and dad said they needed all the time they could get when dealing with the seven year itch. Pretty mental to think about, honestly. Mum and dad on the verge of not ever being together.”</p><p>“But they made it through. That’s what matters.”</p><p>“I know,” Ron nodded, understanding greatly, though that’s exactly what he was trying to get at. “Maybe that could somehow be us.”</p><p>The words lingered in the air for a moment, hovering over the both of them as Hermione paused. Though she was still at ease and still nostalgic as she sat with the man beside her, it didn’t make up for the fact that he still had feelings for him, and Hermione did not. As a matter of fact, despite how upset Hermione was about how things turned out between her and Draco, she still knew that she held deep feelings for him no matter what. Feelings that Hermione knew would be unchanged.</p><p>“Maybe,” Hermione frowned, though even those words felt just as wrong if she had said the word ‘yes’. She shifted a bit in her seat and looked down at the stairs. She couldn’t lie to Ron and get his hopes up for a future that she had seen without him for the past few months. Even if she and Draco were taking their time apart, there was no denying the ache she felt deep within her as she longed for him. “But I think we should just stick with being friends.”</p><p>Ron scoffed a bit, accepting the defeat that he knew was bound to come and sighed a bit as he looked her over.</p><p>“Some bloke came and scooped you up already, huh?” He asked with a bit of unbelievable dread in his voice. Hermione knew that he were jealous, and she also knew that she could never lie to Ron. He was always a master at detecting it, but she didn’t want to spill too much about her love life, either. It wasn’t fair to him, even if he brought it up.</p><p>“It’s complicated.”</p><p>Ron, now interested in the fact that she neither confirmed nor denied what he was alluding to, tried to press once again.</p><p>“Spit it out.”</p><p>“I said it’s complicated!” Hermione nearly shouted. This, along with his jealousy, was something that Hermione never really missed when it came to Ron. She could never get the opportunity to just ‘be’. He always needed to know every thought she had when she had them. But now that they were no longer dating, and therefore she didn’t feel obliged to share much with him anymore.</p><p>“Why is it complicated? It’s either a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.” He spoke, his voice softening but still keeping the edge on as he lightly interrogated her.</p><p>“It’s complicated because I said so, Ronald.” Hermione pressed back, no longer wanting to carry on the conversation. She wanted to be angry at Ron. She truly did. But she knew that being angry with him would go nowhere. He was still processing the breakup like she had, even though she had anticipated the end of their relationship for some time now. It wasn’t hard on her like it was to him, and that alone made her a bit softer when discussing these things with him. But no amount of questions or prying would change her mind.</p><p>Ron didn’t like this answer, for reasons that were obvious. But out of respect for Hermione, he quit with his own personal investigation and decided to give one last piece of advice to the woman he still held dear to him.</p><p>“Just be careful with who you give your heart out to. Always remember that,” He spoke. Hermione managed to glance at him, seeing a definite care to him, but still a hardened man worn down by so many factors around him. Work, a breakup, a new flat, <em>time</em>. “I know we aren’t together, but I do really still care a lot about you.”</p><p>Although Hermione wasn’t sure if his advice were genuine or if he were hinting at the way he felt about her currently, she did know this to be true. Ron was caring, very caring. But he often let that become bigger than the actual situation, which was both good and bad. And while Hermione could handle herself, she did happen to find it a bit overbearing to know that Ron still cared for her, but in their old sense, strangely enough. She didn’t know exactly what to say to this, having grown tired with the conversation being held between them and landed on the most obvious topic that could properly drive them away from such profound awkwardness.</p><p>“Happy Birthday, Ron.” Hermione spoke before she descended down the steps to join the rest of the party. Hermione had never considered what it would’ve been like to continue having Ron as her partner until now. The thought had never crossed her mind since the breakup, and frankly it was hard to imagine what getting back together would look like for them both. As they had grown up they were just two completely different people now with different wants, and that was alright. Hermione knew that things between her and her friend would never been the same way ever again. She could never see herself running to him for relationship problems like she did with Harry. She could never see him running to her for the same. They were once so invested deeply with each other that Hermione figured it was best to just leave things right where they were. Civil and untouched, and to let her heart be right where it found its new home.</p><p>With Draco.</p><p> And as she tossed herself back into the music and chatter of the large Weasley family, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what Draco was doing with his time, now that they were taking some needed time apart.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The sound of utensils hitting the fine china plates that Blaise and Pansy ate out of was increasingly obnoxious to Draco. All he wanted to do was sleep, and both of them were prohibiting him from doing so with their constant chatter. This wasn’t anything new to the blonde. His days were in accordance to their most of the time, and he found himself growing into a routine that he didn’t expect to form.</p><p>Their routine.</p><p>Draco often found himself inserted in the worse ways with the couple. Every morning, Blaise would forget his towel on the back of the couch just before he hopped in the bathroom for an hour-long shower, leaving Draco as his morning towel reminder. And Pansy would wake up every morning and blend together an array of fruits and call it ‘breakfast’ just before they all headed out of work at the same time. Apparently Muggles called it a ‘smoothie’, the one Muggle item that Pansy actually grew grateful for. Draco used to find the thought hilarious, once calling himself the best roommate ever, until he realized that he didn’t even have a room.</p><p>Draco had been on the hunt for a new flat here and there, but mostly lacked the energy when it came down to putting in much work. He wanted the perfect place for him to live, a place where it could be homey like Hermione’s and still have his own flare to it. He didn’t need the biggest flat that would impress people. He wanted a home, and he wanted one with Hermione. But it was nearly impossible for him to get started on this when he hadn’t heard from her in weeks.</p><p>He was plopped on their couch, his new bed, when the couple were behind him in the kitchen having a meal. Draco had grown quite skilled at toning them out, not really hearing their conversations, though the sound of their voice didn’t really help. He felt confined and restricted to this couch with nothing else around him. Of course he felt bad that he was imposing on his friends, but he truly wished they weren’t so active. He loved spending the night with Hermione because they complemented each other so well. They would wake up, relax for a few, and then have their quiet time together. It was the perfect type of intimacy, and he missed it. But he was also aware that he couldn’t get everything that he wanted.</p><p>So, Draco sat there in silent moodiness as the couple talked around him. They were talking about something about work. He tried not to catch on to too many words, for the fear that he’d have to include himself in their topics. The one thing he wanted most right now was just peace and quiet. The simple things.</p><p>“Draco, what about you?” Blaise managed to call out, though he was met with silence. Draco sat on the couch, staring into nothingness as he reflected greatly on how his life was turning out. In short: it wasn’t. He was thinking about work, how he was grateful enough to have employment, but that he didn’t even get the chance to showcase his potential. McGonagall simply looked him over and decided he were unfit to teach. And with the term coming to a close soon, he had no idea on how he would mange to change her mind. Though, as he sat lost in thought, he had completely forgotten to respond to Blaise who was growing impatient at his friend who was ignoring him, though not on purpose. “You know, if I’m not charging you to live here, the least you can do is respond when we try to talk to you.”</p><p>This brought Draco back into full alert, who sat up from his position laying down on the coach as he turned to face the couple. Blaise and Pansy were both looking at him, but the only thing Draco could keep his eyes on was the shiny engagement ring decorating Pansy’s left hand ring finger. The couple had gotten engaged not too long after Draco moved in, and it was actually because of him that it occurred, if he were arrogant enough to admit it. The couple had joked on Draco’s expense that if they could survive him in the midst of a breakup as he slept on their couch, then they could triumph any task. Draco didn’t necessarily find the joke funny. But since then, he had to face that he was jealous. He had everything he wanted, and then his mother placed the doubt in his mind. Then he finally was open about it, and he lost Hermione. The one thing he didn’t want to happen actually did. And he regretted ever opening his mouth. He had no flat, no job prospects, and no Hermione. He tried to adapt her optimistic way of thinking from time-to-time and eventually fell short of it all together. It was hard for him to focus on the things he did have when he was without the one thing he wanted.</p><p>Blaise’s words didn’t exactly bode well with the tired and disheveled blond man. His friend was the one who offered him a place to stay when he came whining to him while drunk. His friend was the one who still extended the invitation even after the disastrous dinner party. And yet, he had the nerve to throw it in his face when Draco wasn’t expecting it.</p><p>“What are you blabbering about?” Draco sneered as he ran his fingers through his greasy locs. Blaise, taking his friend’s attitude with a grain of salt simply brushed off his remark and got a good look at his friend.</p><p>“I asked how your work day was.”</p><p>Draco groaned as he tossed himself back on the couch. God he hated small talk.</p><p>“I went in, I saw Kingsley, and I moved on with my day. Same old, same old.”</p><p>The flat grew silent after Draco’s dramatic explanation. Perhaps he could’ve been a bit more mature when staying in someone else’s home, but for now he wanted to mope. And unfortunately he was damn good at it. But that didn’t mean Blaise would accept it.</p><p>“Honestly mate, you’ve called off an entire wedding that you’ve planned since July, but a breakup with a girl you’ve been with for a month is throwing you off kilter?”</p><p>“Blaise!” Pansy reprimanded in a whisper.</p><p>“No, no. I get it,” Draco sat up once again as he peered at his two friends. He knew it wasn’t easy on either of them, but he knew that they’d never understand what it felt like to slowly lose everything good in their lives. “I’m the extra mouth, the extra ears, the extra everything that you don’t need while you get on the road to planning your beautiful life together, aren’t I?”</p><p>“God you whine so much,” Blaise grumbled in annoyance under his breath. “You know what you have to do. You just don’t want to.”</p><p>“I don’t <em>have</em> to do anything.”</p><p>“Well…then you can kiss Hermione good-bye. I hope you did, matter of fact.” Blaise spoke as he stood up, bringing his empty plate to the kitchen sink as Pansy simply sat there. Her was face what threw Draco off the most. In his entire years of knowing her, Pansy rarely looked genuinely concerned for him. Probably because when they were younger, he liked to make it seem like he had it all together, and in some way he still did that now as an adult. But he must have been losing his touch if Pansy gave him looks like these.</p><p>“Why don’t you just try? That’s all she wants, isn’t it? It’s bloody mad but in relationships there has to be some sort of a give and take.”  </p><p>Draco stood up, alerting both of his friends as he did so and started for the door. The conversation wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and he needed time to think. This wasn’t the life he had planned out for himself, and it wasn’t the life his family planned out for him, either. But he firmly believed that if he wanted them to respect not just Hermione, but him too, then they needed to feel the hurt that he felt, and nobody truly understood that.</p><p>“I’ll be back later.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Draco found himself in odd and obscure places whenever he was lost in his thoughts, but now he just found himself in familiarity. He had walked the streets of Diagon Alley, hoping for any sign of familiar life and grew tired when he didn’t. He hated this feeling. What good was it to really reconnect with his parents? Well, maybe his mother in some sort, but his father? Definitely not. There was nothing to gain from it, and hopefully Hermione saw this soon enough. If only he could just see her. He hadn’t made any solid attempts at contacting her, but then again it had only been about two weeks since this all occurred. He missed her awful, despite how wrong she was. And with his growing earning came his growing pride. Who was she to ask something this grand from him? Sure they were intimate and connected on a level much deeper than he had ever done with anyone before, but to change him? It was so strange. He never sought to change her!</p><p>Feeling a bit encumbered by his now rambling thoughts, Draco brought himself to the bookstore that he spent most times with Hermione, and pulled himself inside. Alwa was his first point of contact upon entering, and he noticed carefully as a small grin appeared on her face with her eyes growing brighter. The woman staggered over to him before he could take a few active steps towards her, and reached out towards him in delight. In what world would it ever be possible that the Seer was that happy to see him, especially since he always wrote her off whenever he encountered her?</p><p>“Mr. Malfoy!” She rejoiced as she grabbed his hands in her cold ones. “You <em>must</em> hear this reading I have for you! It’s quite important!”</p><p>There was nothing new about the words that Alwa spoke to him. She nearly blurted out readings to him and Hermione every time they entered her shoppe, but this time was different. Draco pondered for a moment. Usually he had always rejected Alwa’s readings, finding them to be nonsensical babbles, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he might need that right now in the midst of his despair. Before he could properly answer the witch, he looked at the rest of the store and noticed its emptiness. Now would be a good time to try and get a reading from her, if he chose to do so.</p><p>“What does it pertain to?” Draco asked, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice with overcompensated dread. Alwa’s energy climaxed at his subtle agreement and she turned his palms over to look at him. With a shaky finger, she stroked the lines gently and tried her best to put a message together, though the action made Draco more ticklish than it made him curious for insight.</p><p>“You’re unhappy. So terribly unhappy,” She spoke, causing Draco to sigh. It wasn’t a secret. He looked unhappy. “But it’s all for a reason. A reason far greater than you can understand.”</p><p>“Is that all?” Draco had started to regret popping into the shoppe. He only came on the off chance that Hermione would be here, but the chances of that actually happening were slim to none.</p><p>“Yes, there is someone new coming in that will change the lives of both you and Miss Granger,” Alwa then became serious. “It’s—”</p><p>“That’s enough.”</p><p>Draco snatched his hand away before Alwa could finish her sentence. He had decided, quite abruptly, that he didn’t want to hear anymore. Whatever it was that Alwa was alluding to, it was wrong. She was wrong. Or at least he wanted her to be. He and Hermione hadn’t even reached their peak, and yet here was this witch telling him that they would see other people who would change their lives. Draco had been jealous before, but he found it unbelievable how he could be jealous of this future possibility. He wanted to be with Hermione, and he didn’t want someone else for himself. And they didn’t breakup because they were unhappy!</p><p>A wave of emotion came over the wizard as he looked at Alwa. He had started to tell her every way in which she were wrong and how you could hardly tell someone’s future by looking at the lines on their hands, but he stopped when his eyes fixated on the familiar being outside of the store. She had graced by the shop so quickly, almost as though she were running, and her curls bounced happily from her momentum. Though it was dark, she stuck out like a sore thumb.</p><p>Draco rushed from the shop and back into the darkened street corners that were lined with dim lights. He watched her jog with some shopping bags in hand, and forced her name that had gotten stuck in his throat to bellow out into the quiet street.</p><p>“Hermione!” He called, to which the young woman stopped suddenly and spun around from his voice. The two of them stood a good distance apart from each other until Draco made the first move towards her. She was shocked, trying her hardest to catch her breath from both her jog and from seeing Draco since their split.</p><p>As he stood before her now, he got the chance to take a good look at her. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold air, though her skin still glowed beautifully in the dim, old streetlight. She had a shopping bag in hand from a store he hadn’t recognized around their parts of town, but besides not anticipating seeing him, she still wore kindness on her face.</p><p>“H-hi,” Hermione managed to force out as she looked him over, too. Had he known he would definitely bump into her today, he would’ve dressed better or actually taken the time to do his hair. “How are you?”</p><p>“Good,” Draco nodded. While he definitely hated small talk, any talk with her was welcomed. “And yourself?”</p><p>“Good. Things are…good,” Hermione nodded as she looked at him. Their conversations hadn’t been this awkward since they first met back up together after the war. And so, he found it equal parts sad and frustrating that they weren’t back to their original selves. “I was just heading home.”</p><p>Home. How envious he were of her bedsheets that got the chance every night to hold her in closer. He missed the days when he would hear ‘home’ and knew that it was an unspoken invitation for him to join her, but he knew that given the circumstances, now he could not. Draco couldn’t help but let his mind race to all the unspeakable things they had done in her apartment and the nights they shared. He missed those moments where he could take her breath with the power of his own mouth, but he also missed her company, in general.</p><p>“Did some shopping?” Draco smiled faintly. He was grasping at anything he could in order to make this conversation continue.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, uhm…”</p><p>“Hermione, let’s go!” A familiar voice called out a ways away behind her. Draco looked off to the side a bit, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he noticed Harry, Ginny, and unfortunately Ron standing in the mix. He had a bag as well, but his were a suit bag, similar to the one that Potter was carrying, too. He was stunned that he hadn’t noticed them before, but then again his focus was only on Hermione. It took an immense amount of strength for Draco to not yell out at the man, but he chose not to, seeing as he had more questions when seeing him.</p><p>“What is he doing here?” He asked, low enough for just the two of them to hear.</p><p>“We had to get a few last minute things for the wedding, Draco. It’s nothing personal.” Hermione spoke, trying her best to assure him as quietly as she could.</p><p>“Is he your date or something?” Draco frowned.</p><p>“How dare you?! He’s the best man! It’s nothing like that and you know it.”</p><p>Draco looked at the annoyance on her face and felt himself simmer down a bit as he saw her. He didn’t want to be a bother to her, but he couldn’t help his feelings. Beforehand, he was upset that they weren’t seeing each other right now, but everything shifted when hearing Alwa’s words. It didn’t help that she had been seen with Ron tonight, as well. Was he the person Alwa was referencing?</p><p>“Is that it,” Draco raised an eyebrow. “You sure it isn’t a double date or something?”</p><p>Hermione’s face softened at his words, and an unreadable look came over her as she stared at the man before her. There was so much that it looked like she wanted to say, but chose not to. So, she instead settled for the words she felt he needed to hear most during this time.</p><p>“All I’m asking is for more time to sort things out for myself,” Hermione assured before giving a polite nod to the jealous man. “Good night, Draco.”</p><p>The fact that the look on her face was devoid and unchanging at his words. Had Draco not known any better, he would’ve assumed that Hermione had somehow mastered occlumency during their time apart, but it didn’t seem like it. Though she was glowing, she seemed solemn in some way from his words, the complete opposite of what she was originally before she had noticed him.</p><p>From where Draco stood, he watched the young woman turn away and walk to catch up with her friends while the only thing he could do was watch. She reached the three others while she, Ginny and Harry continued to walk, yet the only person on the street staring back at him was Ron. Though it were dark, Draco could tell that the man across the way was analyzing him with such disdain before turning to rejoin the others who continued to walk down the street. Draco, on the other hand, was left standing in the shadows of the sidewalk, pained at the idea of being left out of Hermione’s life even if it were temporary, and even more so because he feared that Ron was the person from Alwa’s reading.</p><p>Though Draco got what he wanted in seeing the woman he loved, he had to admit that he felt even worse having done so.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello! Hope you’re all doing so well. So happy to post up another chapter for you all. Things are getting a little dramatic for our favorite ship, but with reason and it all leads into something big that I hope you all will enjoy. After this chapter, the next ones to come will center around tying up the loose ends of the fic and for the characters impacted to make their final moves so stay tuned! I’m in out of work for two weeks and in quarantine unfortunately so I suppose that will give me some more time to write and get content out to you all a bit more frequently. Either way, I appreciate all your love and support, kudos and comments! It’s always good to know that my voice is being heard! Xx—</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco makes an appearance at Malfoy Manor and Hermione attends Harry and Ginny’s wedding.</p>
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  <strong>DRACO</strong>
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<p>A small breeze came over the young man as he sat in the typically quiet drawing room. As the goosebumps lined his skin, Draco was uncertain if the chills he felt at that moment were from the air coming in through their large elongated windows left open ajar, or if it were because of his nerves. Perhaps both, if Draco were being honest with himself. But that’s just the thing. He wasn’t. He had convinced himself that on his way to the Manor, he was alright. He felt that this meeting with his mum would be just what he needed in order to get his relationship back on track.</p>
<p>From the last time Draco saw Hermione, he felt a slight push to get a move on when it came to his familial situation. He didn’t want to wait another moment when this could possibly get solved straight away. But still, he wasn’t entirely sure if this were the best idea. Draco stood proudly on the fact that he was right and Hermione was still wrong, but felt that if he wanted to present anything to her, it would be how his family remained unchanged to the idea of their relationship and that his relationship with his parents were completely irreparable. He vowed to not throw it in her face too much, if he could help it.</p>
<p>The more he sat in his seat, the longer he grew uncomfortable. What if his father came instead of his mother? His mother had always been his voice of reason out of his two parents, and to be presented with the main one that he were cross with didn’t seem like the best idea for the conversation that needed to be had. Maybe his mother had forgotten him? He hadn’t heard a peep nor a sound come from around the drawing room since the house elves escorted him to where he would wait, and that alone made him uneasy. He grew up in this Manor and could navigate it with his eyes closed, but to know that he were treated as a visitor rather than a member of the Malfoy family proved that where he stood with his family was still undecided. Or at least decided without him.</p>
<p>Just when Draco had started to lose the last bit of hope he had left in him, he paused when hearing the sound of high heels across the tiled halls, and focused his attention on the entryway. Narcissa came into view, standing and staring at her son from the doorframe, and drew in a breath before entering. Draco remained seated, unsure what behaviour was acceptable with his mother since their last discussion. He would usually greet her with a hug or a kiss, and she would typically offer him tea and nearly force a plate of food down his throat as she asked her son every question about his life that she could think of. But now? That was finished. He knew, in that moment, that the relationship with his mother would never be the same.</p>
<p>Draco found himself tempted to apparate right out of the drawing room as quickly as he could to save himself the difficulties of the conversation soon to come, but stopped. The reason he was here was because of Hermione. Not for his own good. And while it was good to see his mother in person, he couldn’t get past the frown she bore the entire time that she laid eyes on her son. How irreparable was this relationship with her, he wondered. Yet, there was only one way to find out. He watched as his mother sat in a seat nearby him, and turned her entire attention to him. Initially there was a silence between the two Malfoy’s with only the crackle of the fireplace taking ownership of the atmosphere with its relaxing sound. Both of them were waiting for the other to speak first, for the other to be the brave one in a situation so daunting.</p>
<p>“You send an owl asking for us to meet together and yet you have nothing to say?” Narcissa asked quite abrasively as she eyed her son. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him. And though she looked unemotional and cold, Draco knew that she were simply putting on a face for him to not see how she truly felt. Honestly, Draco wished he knew.</p>
<p>“I just wanted to talk,” Draco spoke, though he wasn’t sure if that were the truth. He loved his mother, and was grateful that she agreed to meet with him, but he wasn’t sure if he just wanted to talk to her. He just didn’t know what else to say. “How are you?”</p>
<p>“Fine. How is your new flat?”</p>
<p>Draco was stunned by how quick his mother was being, as though she felt that breezing through every topic that she used to bring up would suffice and soon end the dreadful awkwardness between mother and son. But still, both of them knew they were in for quite the heavy afternoon. If they weren’t, that would’ve been a great surprise.</p>
<p>“I’m actually still looking,” Draco tried not to let his shame shine through, especially in the presence of his hardened mother. “I’m staying at Blaise’s flat for the mean time.”</p>
<p>“Ah, he has an extra room?”</p>
<p>“No, a couch.”</p>
<p>Draco watched as slight concern crept onto Narcissa’s face at the revelation. His mother had pursed her lips to say something else, but couldn’t make out the words that she wanted to say. So, she trailed to another thought that best fit the situation.</p>
<p>“I thought you would’ve stayed with your…<em>friend</em>.” Narcissa spoke, alluding to his relationship with Hermione.</p>
<p>“We decided against that. At the moment we’re taking some time apart.” Draco confessed. He figured that if he had nothing else to lose, considering he’s lost enough, he would at least be honest with what they were doing. And in that, he watched Narcissa’s face remain unchanged in her slight concern. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, and so much she hadn’t known about her son’s life anymore. And yet she tried her best to refrain from any questions that led to answers she didn’t think she should hear. But that was just it. She wanted to hear it all.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry to hear that.” Narcissa spoke softly as she shifted her gaze to her hands and to the ring that decorated her left hand ring finger. This was already uncomfortable for Draco, but he hadn’t realized how uncomfortable it might’ve been for his mother, too. But it was hard to take her sympathy seriously, especially with their past.</p>
<p>“Are you?” Draco raised an eyebrow, slightly challenging his mother’s emotion.</p>
<p>The elder witch sighed and shook her head. Her hair, which adopted some gray into her already two-tone locs shook at her movement.</p>
<p>“I never wanted things to be this way, Draco.”</p>
<p>“But they were allowed,” Draco started. He tried his best to refrain from having any sort of outbursts, especially with her. He didn’t want things to be like last time. He wanted them to be simpler, and if he wanted that then he knew which route he had to take. But he already put an end to that back in December. And he was happy with his decision. And he was happy with Hermione. But his happiness cost his parents their happiness as well. But whose fault was that, really? “I can’t possibly be the blame all the time.”</p>
<p>Narcissa’s eyes narrowed at her son, the same look she would give when he were an adolescent and had done something rather naughty. It was clear that she was still holding onto the regret of their past argument, which neither of them had apologized to the other for.</p>
<p>“Why did you come here, Draco,” Narcissa spat. “To pick a fight? Is that what you wanted?”</p>
<p>Draco sucked in a breath, knowing that the question that stirred between them was now on the table. The big elephant in the room, was now able to be spoken on the tips of their tongues.</p>
<p>“I came here because Hermione asked me to.”</p>
<p>Draco watched his mother whose face had softened from suspicion to now what solely looked like fear. She was searching his face for an explanation, but found it useless on her son who was less than thrilled to even be having this conversation.</p>
<p>“Why would she ask you to?”</p>
<p>“Because somewhere in her she thinks we can resolve this. All of us. Father included.”</p>
<p>Narcissa tried wedging her hands in between her knees to keep them from fidgeting. She was nervous, visibly nervous, a trait that Draco rarely ever seen her put on. All those years of abiding by Lucius’ pleas to never show the outside world your emotions was catching up to her. And he couldn’t pinpoint it, but it seemed like there was something else to her anxiety. Glee? No. Curiosity. Yes, that’s it.</p>
<p>“She has high hopes.” Narcissa managed to force out, as she replayed his words in her mind over and over again.</p>
<p>“Clearly they’re too high.” Draco grumbled a bit to himself. He could tell his mother was watching him, and he didn’t really like it. She was looking for something, the same way she had been when he came to her and unintentionally expressed his doubts about him and Astoria. But now, she was looking and actually laying eyes on something that wasn’t there before.</p>
<p>“She must really adore you,” Narcissa spoke, her voice soft and dreamy as though watching love work right before her eyes. And in fact, she did. “And you must really adore her.”</p>
<p>Draco gulped for a moment. He only ever expressed how he felt about Hermione to Blaise, and that was in a moment of anger. Hermione didn’t even have a clue that he felt this way, and before he even got the chance to confess it to her, they had parted ways. Though, once his mother recognized exactly what it was that Draco knew was in his heart, he met his mother’s eyes once more in the bravest fashion he had ever done so yet, and decided to speak.</p>
<p>“I love her, mother.”</p>
<p>“So then if you love her so much, why aren’t you with her?”</p>
<p>“Because she feels guilty. For everything. She feels guilty about the wedding, about the fact that we aren’t necessarily speaking, about things relating to her own parents. And I don’t blame her. I would be, too.”</p>
<p>“But darling we are speaking,” Narcissa lightly smiled, feeling a bit relaxed now by the company of her son. “All with the exception of your father, of course.”</p>
<p>Ah yes, Draco had nearly forgotten that his father was lurking about somewhere in the Manor. He hated to admit that he were intimidated by the thought. He was the last person he wanted to see today, and he intended on keeping it that way. Yet, Draco couldn’t help but wonder what his father possibly did with his former home now that he had moved out of it.</p>
<p>“What did he end up doing with the flat?”</p>
<p>“He’s decided to buy it back. He got reimbursed after a convincing argument that the flat was bought under false pretenses,” Draco tried not to react abrasively from his mother’s words, but then realized that he should’ve known what to expect by asking. Then again, after hearing how his father so easily flipped the script and made it seem as though he stole the money that was given to him, he wished he hadn’t asked at all. Draco’s fists began to ball in his lap from the insult his father had put on his name, but stopped when seeing his mother try to clean it up. “He still talks about you, you know. Every now and then he brings up your name.”</p>
<p>“Most awful things, I assume.”</p>
<p>“Not always,” Narcissa thought for a moment. “Sometimes he tells me that he misses you just before he trickles back down to his pride.”</p>
<p>As though the words sparked something within him, Draco stood up quickly out of the drawing room chair and adjusted his suit lightly. He had nearly forgotten why he was here, and why his father was not. No matter what his father said about him, it didn’t change the fact that he had chosen to not see him today, and any other day that Draco had stopped by and spoken to his mother. And so he knew that if his father’s guard was still up pertaining to him, he didn’t exactly want to be around too long. If his father wanted to talk to him, he had to initiate the first move.</p>
<p>“Well, I should get going.” Draco suggested softly as he stepped away from his mother so he could apparate properly.</p>
<p>Narcissa stood up as well, and for a moment, Draco thought she would walk over and kiss him good-bye like she usually did before the madness, but she remained near her seat as she stared longingly at her son. Draco could see the tiredness of her face, and how upset she were to see him go, but he knew he had to. Or better yet, he wanted to. He planted the seed that he needed to plant, now all he had to do was see whether or not it grew. Draco had prepared himself to leave before hearing a small chuckle come from Narcissa’s direction. The first sound of positivity since their meeting was somehow strange and unusual to the young wizard standing nearby.</p>
<p>“You’re a lot like your father, Draco. You’re alike him in so many ways that you have yet to understand.”</p>
<p>Her words seemed damn near amused with herself at the revelation currently, but it didn’t really stun him. Plenty of people confessed that Draco and Lucius were the same. However, those same people only ever saw the cruelty Draco picked up from him when he was younger, and the pure white of his hair, and how proud he was for his blood purity that now disgusted him whenever he thought back on it. But he wondered then what else his mother saw about him that he didn’t.</p>
<p>“How so?”</p>
<p>Narcissa prepared herself casually for the words she were about to say, not caring how it was interpreted by her son, whether he took it lightly or not well at all. But she knew that this was something he needed to hear.</p>
<p>“Your pride.”</p>
<p>Draco stared for a moment, damning the words that came from her mouth and the smile that accompanied it. Even through her smile, he had to accept that he could neither agree nor disagree entirely with what his mother had said, and that if it were a compliment, he certainly didn’t take it as such. And so, for a split moment, Draco somewhat wished he hadn’t have gone to the Manor.</p>
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  <strong>APRIL</strong>
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  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
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<p>The large Ferris Wheel that Hermione was seated in lowered itself steadily as it then regained control and brought itself back up slowly into the air. Hermione wasn’t scared of roller coasters, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of the least menacing ride at a carnival, but the more she looked over her seat at her feet that dangled in midair with the rest of her, she grew uncomfortably queasy. She drew in a hard breath and tried to relax herself as her heart raced continuously. Why was she on the Ferris Wheel? There was no one else on the ride at all, and yet here she was alone. From high up, Hermione looked around at the rest of the carnival and noticed that there was no other sign of life, which scared her deeply. How on Earth did she plan to get out of here? Better yet, how did she get up here?</p>
<p>The young woman reached in her pockets for her wand and tried gripping it anxiously before it slipped out of her hands and fell straight to the ground.</p>
<p>“Shit!” She called out, as though cursing it would bring it back to her after its fall. Hermione looked around and felt she had no other choice but to do the most Muggle thing imaginable and wait for someone to come save her, and she hated that gravely. But still, as she sat in constant rotation, in the air, then down, then back up again, the solitude that she experienced was far less enjoyable than the one she had been used to. Hermione took her mind off of her panicking for a brief moment to think of Draco and how she desperately needed him here with her before things got out of hand. Then, as she continued looking down, she noticed a pair of legs beside hers that weren’t there before.</p>
<p>Hermione jerked up and looked at Draco who was just as panicked as she was, which was now overshadowed by her confusion at his presence.</p>
<p>“When did you get here?” Hermione asked, her voice now louder and in a bit of a shout.</p>
<p>“What do you mean,” Draco asked as he tightly gripped the seat he was strapped in. “I was here the whole time! I didn’t even want to go on this bloody thing!”</p>
<p>Hermione furrowed her brow at Draco, clearly not believing him. In just a moments notice, he was there and then he wasn’t. How was that possible? But for some reason, where they sat no longer concerned her. She wasn’t worried about how they would get down. The only thing that plagued her mind incessantly now was the undying need to profess something to the man she knew she loved. And she would do just that.</p>
<p>“Draco, there’s something I must tell you!”</p>
<p>“Well out with it before we die!” Draco called out.</p>
<p>The Ferris Wheel began spinning faster and faster this time, a large, continuous wheel moving stationary in the theme park. Surely they would die, if nothing else.</p>
<p>“Draco I—” Hermione tried her best to speak, but got caught by the dizziness that they were encumbered in. She felt warmth rise in the back of her throat as the nausea settled in prominently. She swallowed a bit, temporarily easing the sensation before Draco inched closer to her.</p>
<p>“Go on!”</p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>Hermione was stopped from speaking any further by a sound of an infant crying. The sounds, loud and drastic seemed to send chills down her spine. There was a baby nearby, but she couldn’t see it.</p>
<p>“Do you hear that?” She yelled out as she continued to search, though now Draco was gone. The sound of the baby crying intensified and filled Hermione’s ears. The young witch could feel tears stinging her eyes, and soon they shot open abruptly.</p>
<p>Hermione laid there in the bedroom, her vision blurred as she was still somewhat tucked away in her dream, but sat up when the commotion of the house became too much to bear. She could hear muffled voices all around outside the bedroom door that she was staying in, and rubbed her eyes carefully. If there’s one thing the Weasley’s knew how to do quite well, it was seeing to it that everyone was in their rightful place when getting ready for a wedding.</p>
<p>Hermione stood up shakily as the nausea that once overcame her began to settle slightly as she tried to catch her bearings. She was exhausted and especially fatigued despite having a full night’s rest. Hermione opened the bedroom door that she was in and nearly bumped into Molly who was rushing by frantically.</p>
<p>“Oh, Hermione, darling! You’re awake! Come, there’s tea and toast in the kitchen. I didn’t make a big breakfast, I’m afraid. It’s far too chaotic in the house as it is!” She smiled humbly at her. Hermione raised an eyebrow at how busy the entire house was. Standing near Molly, Hermione watched as a messy haired Victoire tried running down the stairs of the Burrow just before Bill perked up and grabbed her quickly. Outside in the yard were people speaking and Arthur giving instructions on something or another. She were too tired to catch on to the words he spoke. But most importantly, she wondered how everyone had so much energy this early in the morning. Hermione figured it were only about seven o’clock. The wedding wasn’t until eleven. So why was there such a fuss?</p>
<p>“Mum! Where’s the iron?” Ron called from upstairs. Hermione glanced up at the man hanging over the edge and then back at Molly who was shuffling down the stairs.</p>
<p>“I told you to keep a hold of it, Ronald! That’s your business!”</p>
<p>Hermione smirked a bit as she looked up at Ron and trailed down the stairs in her pajamas.</p>
<p>“You look comfortable.” Ron called out to her sarcastically as she simply ignored him for something far more interesting. The smell of toast was all too powerful for Hermione’s hunger, who sat down quickly and downed a few slices in the silence that she now found herself in. Having alone time was anything short of a miracle at The Burrow, though it wouldn’t be for long.</p>
<p>Hermione watched George walk over with a teary-eyed baby Fred who was looking at her both bright and curious. Despite being tired, Hermione couldn’t help but still smile at the source of her interrupted slumber and felt that if anything, he were definitely worth being sleepy over.</p>
<p>“Can you believe this,” George spoke up as he sat down at the same table with Hermione and plopped Fred down on his lap. “The nerve of my sister and Potter having their wedding the same week of me and Fred’s birthday?” The baby boy who was alert to the sound of his name looked up at his father who smirked and shook his head to counter his son’s curiosity with a harmless joke. “Not you, nosey.”</p>
<p>Hermione smiled at the interaction and looked at George, noticing his attire. He was in a suit, though still casual and smart, while Fred donned a handsome blue baby suit for himself. They looked absolutely dapper, the two of them, which made Hermione speak up in sarcasm.</p>
<p>“This is perhaps the first time Ive ever seen you get dressed on time, George.” Hermione smirked and gave a playful wink to the baby on his lap.</p>
<p>“I suppose pajamas are the new fashion statement for a wedding, isn’t it Granger,” George spoke, then grinned when leaning forward and staring at her. “You do realize what time it is, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, probably a little after seven.” Hermione shrugged as she poured herself a cup of tea and then began to gulp that desperately.</p>
<p>George’s grin widened sneakily a bit as he rested in his chair again and began to nod slowly.</p>
<p>“Just making sure, is all.” He smirked.</p>
<p>Hermione continued with her routine of toast and tea repeatedly as George and Fred simply watched in astonishment, though Hermione was too fixated to even realize.</p>
<p>“Stress eating before the dreaded nuptials, are we?” George teased as he looked Hermione over. The girl, who looked to be quite pale and haggard had initially started to ignore him before deciding to respond.</p>
<p>“No, I just think I may have come down with something.”</p>
<p>“Ah, so the wedding is getting to you, isn’t it? Don’t be so glum, Granger. Some bloke will scoop you up quick before you even know it and before he can even figure out what he’s gotten himself into.”</p>
<p>“Thanks George.” Hermione spoke, trying her hardest to stifle the smile that came to her face from his words. Hermione found it difficult to take anything that George said to heart. He was always so playful and not serious, so she just took it for what it was. She often liked spending time with both George and Fred when she were younger, and found them to be like annoying older brothers to her. Still, even after her breakup with Ron, she still felt this way.</p>
<p>Hermione continued eating, or stuffing her face full of the remainder of the buttered toast as though her hunger was barely being touched by the bread and tea combination. She wasn’t feeling her best, but she wasn’t understanding why she found it so difficult to put down the toast. Perhaps George was right, in the worse way possible. Maybe she was stress eating.</p>
<p>Hermione hadn’t spoken to Draco at all since the last time she saw him in Diagon Alley a week ago. And as much as she wanted to talk to him longer and reconnect with the man, she became instantly flooded with guilt moments after seeing him. Guilt was the worse thing that Hermione had ever dealt with. Though she wasn’t keen on the Malfoy’s, she knew it must’ve been hard on them to not have a son in their lives. Their only son, at that.</p>
<p>All thoughts of Draco had been turned off momentarily as Arthur entered in the house and stared eagerly at his son. He was sweating, though it were lightly breezy outside, and his sleeves to his buttoned shirt were rolled up to his elbows.</p>
<p>“I’ve been looking all over for you! We need you to help us put the tent up now! It’s nine-thirty, George! Come on!”</p>
<p>The piece of toast that Hermione was chewing on nearly got caught in her throat at how surprised she were. Hermione almost always woke up at the same time everyday considering her work schedule. She had been adjusted to such a schedule for a while now, but she had overslept greatly. That was very unusual for her.</p>
<p>“Nine-thirty,” She exclaimed as she stood up quickly. “I have to go help Ginny!”</p>
<p>“Not so fast, Granger,” George spoke as he stood, towering over the young woman. He handed his son over to the frantic woman who naturally opened her arms to welcome the baby and peered back at him with confusion. “Now <em>you’ve</em> gotta help <em>me</em>.”</p>
<p>“Well, where’s Angelina?” She called out, nervous at best. She had never been left alone with a baby before, and the task seemed all the more nerve-wracking as she held the child. He was surprisingly heavy despite being so small.</p>
<p>“With Fleur helping Ginny since you decided to sleep in,” George called out, though he gave a small sigh when seeing how unglued Hermione was. “Just sit down with him, will ya? He won’t bite…hard. Back in a minute!”</p>
<p>Hermione stood with the child in her arms as she watched George retreat outside with Arthur to place the tent. It seemed as though the entire house was quiet as she held him. Where was Molly at a time like this? She had raised seven children, and had two grandchildren already, with another on the way from Fleur and Bill. Surely she could help, if only she were around. Yet, she wasn’t, and the amount of time Hermione would spend looking for Molly would be the amount of time that Hermione could use in order to just take it slowly with the baby.</p>
<p>So, Hermione took George’s advice and sat down on the couch with Fred seated in her lap. Every muscle in Hermione’s body was tense at the action, and she stared at the child. So sweet and calm with huge eyes staring back at hers. He was definitely gorgeous, and the first Weasley grandson making his debut to the world. It was like she held a golden prize right before her.</p>
<p>Fred continued to stare, clearly trying to recognize her face and take in her features. It seemed as though he were thinking, and that attracted Hermione to the child. This didn’t seem so bad, now that she thought of it.</p>
<p>“Well, hello, you curious thing, you,” Hermione smiled charmingly. She reached her hand up to gently pinch his cheeks and jumped as the baby gasped at the action. The room filled up with the familiar cries that Hermione heard from her dream and felt foolish for what she had done. “Oh, there there.”</p>
<p>Hermione picked the baby up and tried bouncing him on her knees to help calm him, but to no avail. He was distraught, and Hermione was, too. Maybe she wasn’t exactly cut out for motherhood just yet, and that was perfectly alright with her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>—-</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The tent was beautifully decorated and gorgeous for the wedding that had occurred. There were flowers sprawled about delicately and somehow larger than the tent that had been put up for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It was probably because of the fact that it was. Hermione always admired how there were hardly any rules when it came to magic and wedding planning, despite not having it as her career choice anymore. Still, she managed to transform it for the occasion and made it look just as beautiful as it could’ve possibly been. Although Hermione was very proud with her work, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had earlier in the morning come back over her and settle inside her stomach.</p>
<p>There was a plate of food in front of her which she hadn’t touched at all and was avoiding all evening. She had always been a fan of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, but right now, all the colors on her plate and scents that traveled through the tent rubbed her in the worse way imaginable.</p>
<p>Ron, who was sitting just beside her as the best man and maid of honor were called to do, looked over at the young woman. She was the only one out of the ordinary; not eating and looking particularly grim throughout the reception. The red haired wizard inched closer to her for a moment and nudged her slightly.</p>
<p>“You alright?” He asked, eyeing the witch carefully.</p>
<p>Hermione perked up, forcing a smile on her face in hopes that the nausea would subside, though it didn’t. If anything, having her nose upright and in the air seemed to bring more aromas into her focus.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Hermione nodded softly. “Why?”</p>
<p>“Because you look both good and bad if you get what I mean,” Ron spoke, though his explanation didn’t necessarily positively inspire the uncomfortable witch. “You know, you look great in this dress but horrid in the face. You look pale.”</p>
<p>“I’m fine, Ron,” Hermione tried brushing him off. “I just didn’t get a good night’s rest.”</p>
<p>“Bloody hell, Hermione, you went to sleep before all of us.”</p>
<p>“Then maybe I’m just coming down with something.” Hermione shrugged. She was trying her hardest to not dwell on how ill she felt, and it wasn’t working out with Ron by her side, telling her how dreadful she looked. She already figured as much because of how sick she felt. That didn’t mean she wanted to hear it. The last thing she wanted to worry about was if others had noticed it, too.</p>
<p>“Well, you know what mum always says: ‘Feed a cold, starve a fever.’” Ron spoke as he gently brought her plate closer to her. The action, so gentle and kind in intentions still seemed completely ominous as the plate neared towards her. Her eyes widened at the array of food and inhaled deeply, just as she had done in her dream from earlier.</p>
<p>Hermione picked up her fork and tried her best to mouth a fork full. She was sure that the food was tasty, but what with how she was feeling, it was hard to even tell if it were. The only thing she was trying to focus on was not regurgitating it right there on the table.</p>
<p>“There we go,” Ron spoke, a bit impressed with himself for helping his friend. And as she took another bite, Ron felt more comfortable in the fact that she was now feeling better and couldn’t help but figure it were a more perfect time for a toast. He stood up, catching the attention of a few of the guests, and there were plenty of them, as he raised his champagne glass and clanked it delicately. “If I can have all of your attentions please,” The room silenced as the rest of the guests all turned, looking at Ron as he stood confidently. “I would just like to propose a toast, to Harry and Ginny who were destined to be together from the moment Ginny nearly fainted when she first saw him. You’ve always been my brother through friendship, Harry. Now you get to be my brother through marriage. I love you both. To Harry and Ginny!”</p>
<p>“To Harry and Ginny!” The rest of the voices inside the tent applauded. The speech was short and sweet, a perfect ode to the couple who were completely no-nonsense and brief in their own couple style. Hermione smiled at Ron as he fixed himself to sit back down beside her who gave a pensive look to her once he did so.</p>
<p>“They want you to speak now, too.” Ron whispered.</p>
<p>Fear engulfed Hermione at his words, and then turned to see the guests, including Ginny and Harry who were smirking mischievously at the two former couple. All the eyes on Hermione at this moment startled her, something that she wasn’t used to. Hermione wasn’t a stranger to public speaking, in fact she was rather good at it, yet in a moment where she wasn’t feeling so confident due to her feeling ill, she shied at the opportunity. But in the distance, Hermione caught eyes with Ginny who mouthed the words ‘please’ to her so happily that Hermione found it hard to turn her down. It was their wedding day, and she adored them both. She couldn’t possibly turn this down, no matter how much she wanted to.</p>
<p>“Hello, um, I’m Hermione Granger,” She started, which resulting in a small snicker from Ron nearby. “I’ve known Harry about as long as I’ve known Ginny and it’s quite obvious that they’re perfect for each other,” Hermione gulped a bit, her heart racing and her stomach churning even more now that she were speaking so outwardly. “There’s hardly a m-moment where I’ve seen Ginny without Harry and vice-versa. B-But..um…they’re meant to be. It’s like you two were made for each other.”</p>
<p>Hermione’s eyes became teary at the intensified feeling. She didn’t care that her speech wasn’t as charming or as lovely as Ron’s. More than anything, she was just trying to get through it. There was so much more that Hermione wanted to say. She had prepared so diligently for this moment, and wrote her speech out in advance so that she could speak proudly to her friends. For now, though, she was just glad that she hadn’t projectile vomited after speaking each word.</p>
<p>“To the bride and groom.” Hermione raised her glass. She tried her best to ignore the odd looks she got, particularly from a few of the Weasley’s in her line of view and sat down. Everyone else tossed back their champagne and continued eating and chatting among themselves as though it had never even happened. All except for Ron who was now stuffing his face as he eyed her.</p>
<p>“What’s with you?” He asked, his mouth full of food. Hermione swallowed as she looked at him, his cheeks puffed with meat and a gravy that trickled out of the corner of his mouth and into its corners. Hermione hated that she gave a look of disgust to the man who was simply trying to check in on her, but she couldn’t help it. The sight was too much for her to bear, and was just the edge she needed in order to take her nausea to its peak.</p>
<p>Hermione stood back up quickly, her chair falling behind her as she did so, and she held her mouth tightly. Rushing through grass in heels was a feat in and of itself, and she prayed silently through a full mouth that she would make it to the bathroom before anyone else could. There were so many guests attending the wedding, it was impossible to tell who was where.</p>
<p>Now inside the Burrow, the house quieter than she had ever heard it, Hermione raced up the stairs, still holding all composure before bursting into the bathroom and dropping to her knees. Hermione retched into the toilet, everything from this morning’s toast to the bit of food that she had tasted from this evening’s meal came up and out.</p>
<p>Hermione’s throat burned from the action and sat on the cold floor of the bathroom, catching her breath from the regurgitation. There, she sat confused and in wonder of what could’ve gave her such a sour stomach. Hermione didn’t have a cast iron gut like Ron, but she did pride herself on not being as sensitive with different foods. She had an expendable palate and loved tasting new things. But now, she wasn’t so sure.</p>
<p>What made her so sick? Perhaps she was coming down with something. Surely that would explain her late start in the morning and how tired she had been. Yes, now it was making more sense.</p>
<p>As Hermione wiped her mouth sluggishly with the back of her hand, she paused when hearing footsteps approaching the bathroom from just outside. She cursed herself on not locking the door when she first arrived, but figured that was her best move since she had found herself so drastically ill. So, she pulled herself up and made her way over to the sink, rinsing her mouth out.</p>
<p>“Hermione!” Fleur exclaimed just from behind her as she carefully stepped inside, inspecting for any sign of vomit that hadn’t met the toilet. It seemed as though her pregnant belly made its entrance before she did, considering she was due in only two months.</p>
<p>“Are you alright, love?” Angelina spoke next as she came in from the hallway.</p>
<p>The question that seemed to have been asked by the third person this day had started to rub Hermione the wrong way. Clearly she wasn’t okay right now, but that didn’t mean that whatever bug or illness she had caught wouldn’t blow over.</p>
<p>Then it dawned on her. Hermione rarely found herself wedged between the two women who came to her aid, mostly spending her time with Ginny if she could help it. She had nothing against the two women that had found love in the Weasley brothers, but she just spent more time with Ginny, perhaps out of their closeness in age. She knew she should’ve been more at ease having people there that she knew, but having them these two around brought on more anxiety than it did comfort.</p>
<p>“I’m alright.” Hermione nodded as she rinsed her mouth out yet again, trying her best to not make eye contact with the two women who stared at her reflection from the mirror.</p>
<p>“You sure?” Fleur asked as she raised the back of her hand to Hermione’s forehead. Angelina joined her as she then felt for her cheek carefully.</p>
<p>“You’re sweating, Hermione.”</p>
<p>Hermione smiled politely at the two women as she waved them off gently. She knew they couldn’t help it. They were mothers, and were letting their maternal instincts come out in full force onto her. It was hard to be upset at it. It was actually pretty sweet given the moment.</p>
<p>“I’m fine, honest,” Hermione nodded as she looked at them both. “I struggled to get out of bed this morning. I’m pretty sure I’m just coming down with something.”</p>
<p>Hermione watched as the two men sighed in relief and laughed faintly amongst themselves.</p>
<p>“Okay, well that’s a relief. For a moment we thought you might’ve been…you know…”</p>
<p>Hermione blinked at the two of them. Clearly her fatigue had settled in quickly from her trip to the bathroom since she failed to piece together what Angelina was trying to allude to but wouldn’t directly say.</p>
<p>“Might’ve been what?”</p>
<p>“Pregnant!” Fleur called out in a bit of a giggle as she then rubbed her own belly.</p>
<p>“Oh god, no! Not that.” She protested with a laugh. </p>
<p>Hermione waved them out of the rest room and looked herself over in the mirror. The words flowed so easily out of Fleur’s mouth and seemed so eerily plausible to Angelina, as well. They were both women who endured pregnancy and knew what it was like to undergo similar feelings, so of course it was the first thing to come to mind. But the thought was so obviously ridiculous to Hermione. She was working at the Ministry, she planned weddings and liked reading books with Crookshanks. And she loved Draco. But none of those things, whether they were truths or interests or anything of the sort, didn’t make that thought any less possible than it already was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hello! I find myself torn on what to say as I release this chapter. I was a bit apprehensive because I wasn’t sure on the reception I would get from it, but there’s only one way to find out, right? I do want to say that I’m grateful and completely appreciative for all those of you who have stuck with me from the beginning! Your support has been completely astonishing through and through.—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Much love and major shoutout to one of my biggest supporters: @CrushedRoses</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco goes hunting for a new home, and Hermione takes a pregnancy test.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>DRACO</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A new habit had formed on the young man whenever he found himself nervous or deep in thought. When he replaced his dress shirts for sweaters due to the shrill chills of early Spring, he could no longer fidget and fumble with his top button. Instead, he found comfort in the single, impatient tap of his foot that only made him more aware of his thoughts the louder it got with momentum. And yet, that didn’t make it any easier on him, either.</p>
<p>As he stood outside, trying to look casual at best, Draco got a good look at the flat. The building was pretty large, about seven or eight floors high, with loads of different people coming outside of it. That’s something that worried him. In the time that he spent waiting for the land lady to assist him, there were crowds of younger people leaving the building. A girl, no younger than about eighteen passed him by with a flirtatious wink, to the amusement of her other friends. And then soon after came a bumbling, grouchy elderly man who had an upside-down grip of his wand. Yes, the building was lively, but he wasn’t certain if that’s what he needed. He dreaded the idea of having them as his neighbors. What if in the middle of the night he awoke to the sound of The Weird Sisters? Or to the elderly man yelling at whatever magical beast he surely kept lurking about inside? But then, pretty quickly just when Draco had formulated the small idea to just leave, his eyes landed on a couple exiting the building.</p>
<p>A man and a woman were walking very close together and pushing a pram once they found themselves outside and on the sidewalk. They had caught sight of Draco eyeing them, to which they both gave a pleasant “good day” and kept going about. Down the street Draco could hear the sounds of baby talk from the woman and delighted, infantile laughs coming from the pram as a result. While he wasn’t sure why, there was no denying the fact that that sight was one of the best he had witnessed as he waited. And so, the last bit of hope that he had which had crawled away momentarily, resurfaced.</p>
<p>He couldn’t help but think of Hermione and how depending on how things went today, he would owl her asking to speak. Though Draco dreaded the initial breakup, it was solidified that with her absence, he knew he couldn’t be another moment without her. He loved her. And he planned on telling her that, amongst other things that he had accomplished in their time apart. A small smile crept on the man’s face and then soon left with quickness as a short, round man apparated near him.</p>
<p>The man, whose back was facing Draco, stood for a moment with his hands on his hips and turned around to see Draco and jumped dramatically. The man clutched his chest and struggled for air at the sight of him, and Draco’s heart began to sink. Who was he? Did he know that he was a Death Eater? What restrictions would be placed on him as a result? Would he even get the opportunity to prove himself worthy of living here, if he found the space suitable enough? Just when he were about to scowl at the old man for his dramatics, the man sneered as he studied Draco and then decided to speak.</p>
<p>“Bloody hell, boy! You scared meh,” He spoke in a thick, Northern accent. He waddled over to Draco and stuck out his hand. “Humble Gowaggon, sir.”</p>
<p>Draco hesitated on taking it, but did so quickly and stood back in shock. He swallowed for a moment and looked around, hoping to see any sign of a land lady coming his way, but stopped when realizing he hadn’t the faintest idea of what she could look like.</p>
<p>“Draco Malfoy,” He nodded and then retreated back to his quietness.</p>
<p>“You alright, son?” The man asked. If he weren’t apprehensive towards Draco before, it seemed that way now, considering how closed off Draco was now being.</p>
<p>“I’m uh…waiting for the land lady of this building. Do you know who she is?”</p>
<p>Humble erupted with a laughter that nearly filled the sidewalks and pulled out a large set of keys, about two hundred of them, and jingled them in the air.</p>
<p>“I should know who she is,” He started. “She’s my wife!”</p>
<p>A small blush crossed Draco’s cheeks as he stepped a bit closer.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”</p>
<p>“Nothing to be sorry about, my boy. You didn’t know! Now come on then! Let’s not wait for rain.”</p>
<p>Draco entered the building after the older man and stepped inside, getting a good view of the flat. It looked vintage, and it was obvious that the building had been around for centuries, perhaps. But still, it intrigued him. It wouldn’t have been a building that Draco would’ve considered if he still had his past finances, but it was nice in its own right.</p>
<p>“There’s stairs to the side there but we’ll take the lift, if you don’t mind.”</p>
<p>“Not at all.” Draco shook his head as they then entered.</p>
<p>The one thing that the young wizard took note of was that there were more buttons to be pushed than just eight. There were eight floors as it seemed on the outside, but inside there were floor numbers, and then corresponding letters underneath them. How curious.</p>
<p>The two men stood inside for a moment, neither of them speaking or making a move to press a number letter or something! Draco glanced at the older man who seemed peaceful in standing in the silence, though jumped when seeing Draco staring at him.</p>
<p>“Oh goodness! I’m sorry, son!” The man cried as he pressed a button. Floor 2. Then another. 2A—2G.</p>
<p>The lift took off slowly up one, and then jerked sideways with force at the chosen lettering. Draco hitched a nervous breath as he held onto the walls that he was leaned on, and focused on the man who was smiling politely, completely unfazed. The lift came to a sudden stop, causing Draco to nearly fall over and the man to snicker softly.</p>
<p>“I swear, you’ll get used to it,” Humble spoke as he stepped out once they reached their destination.</p>
<p>Draco reluctantly followed this time and trailed a little closer to the man than he naturally intended to. The hallway was long and quiet, with not much noise to be heard on the other side of the doors that they passed. There was a long carpet that extended from where the lift opened and then down to the end of the hall. The doors were of various colors, with some the traditional brown wood, and others of fascinating and eccentric shades and hues of pastel colors. This place was different, that’s for sure. But he was still trying to figure out whether or not he liked that. “So uh, what’s the deal? You a bachelor or whatever?”</p>
<p>Draco jumped for a moment, having found himself caught up in a world of questions about the flats and what exactly this man and his wife were doing running a place like this. But at the sound of his question, he found himself confused.</p>
<p>“Sorry, what?”</p>
<p>“You know, do you have a missus?”</p>
<p>Draco smirked a bit from the question. He didn’t have a ‘missus’ but he did have someone that he loved. She just didn’t know it yet. And while it was difficult now, he hoped that once he started getting back on his feet that maybe things would spin in his favor.</p>
<p>“It’s complicated.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then. I think you’ll like this one very much.” Humble spoke as he stood in front of a door with the traditional brown color. The man fumbled with the keys for a moment and cursed to himself softly before grabbing his wand and summoning the key he needed.</p>
<p>The door began to open slowly, revealing a ton of light that shown in through the large windows that the flat had. It was spacious and quite upscale-looking. He couldn’t tell if Humble really figured this would’ve been the right choice for him because he was a bachelor or due to the quality of the clothes he wore. In some aspects, it reminded Draco of a smaller version of the flat he had given up to his father.</p>
<p>A small thought crossed over Draco as he studied the space, not entirely taking in the beauty of it like he knew he should have. While it was trendy, there was something off or missing to it. In the moments as he stood, he could see his father and the remnants of their past shadowing in and making their way present. Though Humble couldn’t see him, Draco saw Lucius standing right by the large windows with such a look of disgust painted on his façade. A chill ran through Draco at the vision, soon turning the beautiful view into one of unwelcome.</p>
<p>“Mr. Malfoy?” Humble called out, stopping himself briefly from giving any further details on the flat if Draco weren’t receptive to it. The young wizard tried his best to look less conflicted to not give off so easily how this wasn’t a potential home for him and simply stood straight with his arms behind his back.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately I don’t think this is the right fit for me.”</p>
<p>There was clear disappointment in his voice from the realization, and while he tried his best to remain positive through this all, he was losing hope. He didn’t want to keep staying on Blaise’s couch, imposing on his friends even if they promised him it were quite alright. He knew that it wasn’t, and the last thing he wanted to do was drag this along any further while they were trying to start planning their own lives. Though Draco knew it weren’t possible, he didn’t want to risk any chance of getting too comfortable on the uncomfortable couch.</p>
<p>Draco had intended on just leaving and searching the newspaper’s listings for any other chance of success, but was stopped momentarily by Humble before he could even get the chance to leave.</p>
<p>“I got one more to show you, if you’re interested. I’m not sure if it’ll be your taste. In fact, I’m almost confident that it wouldn’t be something you’d like, but you can take a look just in case.”</p>
<p>Draco thought for a moment. Though the building were odd, with strange tenants and an equally strange land lord lurking about, he still decided to allow himself the chance at seeing it. Perhaps this would be exactly what he needed. And so, Draco found no harm in taking Humble up on his offer, regardless of his initial reservations.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The second flat was on the top floor this time. Unit number 8L. This hall seemed quiet in a fashion that seemed more relaxing than Draco found eerie. But, for some reason, he trusted Humble. Maybe it was in the name. Either way, he wasn’t ready to just leave the complex so soon without giving this final place a chance.</p>
<p>Humble fumbled for his keys just like he had done earlier today and retrieve it with his wand before placing the key in the hole. Before he turned it, however, he turned around to Draco, a meek look on his face as he peered up at him.</p>
<p>“Don’t be too cross with me if you don’t like it. I’d enjoy keeping you on my mailing list if any openings should arise. There’s a wizard on the sixth floor fighting death, so you might not have to wait <em>too</em> long.”</p>
<p>Draco stifled a chuckle and simply remained silent. There weren’t many promises that could be made at this point, but Draco actually came to become fascinated with the man he had spent only fifteen minutes with, thus far.</p>
<p>Humble unlocked the door, and this time he didn’t enter in first. It was obvious to Draco that the man was already insecure with his own selection that he didn’t want to speak unless knowing entirely well if he liked it or not. But he did… so far.</p>
<p>Draco stepped inside slowly, breathing in the air of the empty space that was bigger than Humble’s last selection, though designed almost entirely different. There were still big windows in the space, but not large. However, it seemed as though more light traveled in the windows somehow, which caught Draco off guard greatly. But aside from that, the walls and the spaces and corners of the unit had personality. The kitchen was a perfect size, and the living room space was the perfect place to entertain, should he want to.</p>
<p>Humble grew curious as he saw Draco silently walk down the halls, inspecting everything from the width of the halls to the bathroom located near the back of the flat. But still, the main attraction to Draco was the bedrooms. Two of them stood opposite the other in the halls, and were decently sized. In that moment, he hated to admit that the place was perfect for him, but it was the truth. It just was.</p>
<p>“What can you tell me about the space?” Draco called out to Humble who seemed as though he were hiding in the large living room. The man scurried over to Draco with a sheepish grin on his face, a bit taken back at his desire for additional information.</p>
<p>“Uh, oh, well it’s a two-bedroom as you can see. One bathroom. A large, spacious living room that can double as a study if you see it fit, and it’s about one hundred-fifty galleons a month, sir. It’s also on the quietest floor of the entire complex.”</p>
<p>“Then why is this one vacant?”</p>
<p>“We’ve just had a family move out about two weeks ago, you see,” Humble spoke. “Their family was growing and they needed more space.”</p>
<p>Draco paused for a moment, his mind instantly flashing to Hermione as his heart started to race. He had originally figured it were because he had finally found a place of his own that he loved, but knew that it was something deeper. His thoughts wandered for a moment to visions of him and Hermione, their relationship growing inside these walls. Perhaps, if they were lucky enough to reach that point, they could, too, start their own family here. But Draco hardly wanted to get his hopes up for that. He needed a space now, and this was oddly perfect.</p>
<p>“I’ll take it.” Draco tried his best to hide how excited he were but his energy was different. He was less stuffy and more relaxed, something that took Humble by complete surprise.</p>
<p>“That’s great news, sir,” Humble smiled faintly. “But, dare I ask why you’d need a two-bedroom if you’ll be the only inhabitant?”</p>
<p>Draco knew the answer to that, and somewhere beneath it all, it always turned back to Hermione. It was always Hermione, but the man didn’t know that. Whether it be the homey, welcoming vibe that the unit exuded, or the fact that he saw endless positivities within these walls, it all meshed perfectly well together and concocted a living space that he never knew he’d find so easily. And as Draco looked at the curious man, the one thing he couldn’t do was deny this man the insight he desired.</p>
<p>“It feels like home.”</p>
<p>Draco’s words were simple, but still the most honest he had ever been with himself when choosing his new home. And now, he realized he never truly knew what home was until Hermione Granger came and nestled into his heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>HERMIONE</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Witch Weekly magazine that Ginny accidentally left at Hermione’s flat just before the wedding seemed to both intrigue Hermione and set her train of thought zooming in so many different pathways. The magazine appeared to have everything a witch in today’s society would ever need. Recipes, home décor suggestions, even small tidbits on how to handle your daily overall health, and which potions to brew for certain ailments. Hermione had never truly been a fan of the magazine since Rita Skeeter published the article about her, Harry, and Viktor in both the magazine and the Daily Prophet. She had cursed the mere sound or sight of her name in any piece of writing she laid eyes on, but figured she couldn’t run from the woman forever.</p>
<p>Hermione needed something —anything— to take her mind off of the wedding. It had only been a week since Ginny and Harry’s nuptials, and in that time Hermione realized that perhaps her ties to the Weasley family had begun to come to a close. Not because she simply didn’t love them anymore, but that sometimes with a big family, there wasn’t such a thing as privacy, even if she needed it the most in that moment. And to have Fleur and Angelina so easily plant the thought into her subconscious was dreadful when the only thing Hermione did lately was replay their words.</p>
<p>A page about medicine and different spells and potions that “Your Mother Would Never Tell You About” drew Hermione in eagerly. She skimmed the list and their description, having grown bored with some of the ones she had already known, or some that were similar in retrospect, until her eyes laid on the last and final charm that stunned her.</p>
<p><em>Gravidara Revelare. </em>An old witch’s tale to determine pregnancy.</p>
<p>How fitting.</p>
<p>Hermione brought the magazine closer to her face, reading the charm and its in depth description:</p>
<p>
  <em>The first and final charm that your mother wouldn’t dare tell you about is the Gravidara Revelare charm! The charm, which had been used for centuries before most witches went to local healers for advice, was casted on a potentially pregnant woman. A glowing orb would emit from the wand, and travel along the entire body of the witch before gracefully landing on her belly, indicating she were expecting. If she weren’t, the orb would disappear in thin air. Now imagine that! However, because not many witches chose to have this spell casted on them often due to inaccuracy and privacy concerns, many women settled on the simpler, counting method, or to Muggle pharmacies for pregnancy tests if you’re brave! </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione quickly closed the magazine and tossed it on her coffee table. She couldn’t describe the apprehensive feeling she got from the article. It was as though the article were reading her mind, and she hated it. Having found herself particularly put off, Crookshanks stalked towards his longtime friend, and hopped onto the couch beside her. Hermione watched as the feline positioned himself on her lap, facing her, and placing a gentle paw to her belly. Hermione felt herself become warm at the touch, and gently repositioned him off her as she then made her way to the bathroom.</p>
<p>The mirror that Hermione found herself staring directly at seemed to distort her image the longer she held the gaze. While she found no fault in herself, she focused solely on the small of her belly, trying to see if there was anything unchanged in her torso that she hadn’t noticed but that Crookshanks did. He was a very observant cat, despite Hermione not giving much credit to him for it. He had a keen sense of other beings, whether it be human or animal, and could feel their presence even if they weren’t in view to Hermione. And while she initially tried to write it off as pure luck that time that he sensed Draco outside her flat, she now began to feel as though he were far more intuitive that she ever realized.</p>
<p>Off and on since the wedding, Hermione had found herself subconsciously rubbing her belly, much to her own surprise. It was strange how strongly Fleur and Angelina’s words affected her. How such an assumption can take over her mind and make her even think it could be a possibility. But, in reality, it was. And she wasn’t sure if she could handle such an idea like that on her own. For now, though, she would try her best to retreat back to being completely unfazed, for her sake of peace of mind.</p>
<p>From the bathroom, Hermione lowered her tank top over herself and listened intently as she heard the small, faint pecks coming from her bedroom window. Hermione nearly raced to her room, her eyes widening at the sight of Draco’s owl, and rushing to let him in. The owl bounced inside the room and remained on the window sill as Hermione retrieved the note from its beak. She couldn’t shake how glad she was to hear from him, considering things were less than positive the last time they spoke. She missed him of course, so hearing from him at this moment when her mind was especially crowded her, made her fill with wonder as to his whereabouts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Hermione,</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>If you’re available, maybe we can meet up to</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Catch up. Let me know how that sounds to you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If that sounds good, and I hope it does,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe we can meet at the café in</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Diagon Alley tomorrow. You know the one.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>DM</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>—-</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione’s leg bounced quickly from her nerves as she sat, her eyes dancing around everyone else who sat in the café that afternoon. She prided herself on being early for most occasions, but dreaded how early she was for her meet-up with Draco. She had nearly drove herself mad as she waited, while mere seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours. And for some reason, she liked it. She liked the thrill and the excitement of meeting Draco for lunch  as though they were first dating again, but still knew that would be their main topic of discussion. The last thing Hermione wanted was for herself to come off as rude or demanding when it came to her suggestion about Draco’s family. But, it just didn’t feel right to her knowing that he was sacrificing so much to be with her. It didn’t have to be this way. But at least if he tried, it would be that much more relaxing to her when they decided to progress further with their relationship.</p>
<p>As she waited, her mind trickled back to Fleur and Angelina’s words, their voices almost haunting her the more she replayed it. What if she ever did end up pregnant? What would Draco say? What would they do? How would they raise a child with a set of grandparents that doesn’t even know they have a daughter, and a set of grandparents who may potentially hate their half-blood grandchildren? And while these were almost all reasons that one would shy away from having children in this sort of connection, Hermione knew that one day she would want to take that risk. And she would want them with the man she loved.</p>
<p>Hermione’s eyes darted to the door as she noticed the blond man walking into the café, his typical scowl on his face that she wore outwardly to the world. It was almost comical to see from afar. He was dark and brooding most of the time, but Hermione knew that deep down, this wasn’t the man that the rest of the world saw. He was soft and gentle when he needed to be, and probably the most fascinating person she had ever connected with.</p>
<p>Hermione stood up abruptly and gave a brief wave to alert him of where she sat and watched his face light up. The witch tried to swallow her nerves as she saw him nearing her, but couldn’t hold it in once he reached the table she was seated at. With such quickness, Hermione threw her arms around Draco, holding him tightly and feeling relaxed in his arms as he returned the action. She hoped that he could tell how much she missed him, how much she sort of regretted pushing him away for her own insecurities, but let their embrace speak for itself.</p>
<p>As they parted, Hermione looked up at the man whose ears were rosy red either from the cold, him blushing, or even both. When their eyes met, Hermione felt her heart skip and an even stranger feeling in her abdomen as she looked at him. She smiled at the feeling for a moment and looked around at the rest of the patrons who thankfully didn’t seem to take much notice of their affectionate behaviour.</p>
<p>“You look well.” Draco smiled at her, though frowned when regretting his choice of words. For a moment, Hermione wondered if he knew something that she didn’t. Had he found out about the wedding somehow from Ron?</p>
<p>“Well?” Hermione asked playfully as she raised an eyebrow. The two of them both sat down at the table and eyed one another, as though taking in the deeper aspects of their partner.</p>
<p>“I mean, you look…glowy. Is that a thing? You’re glowing.” Draco nodded as he then felt more comfortable with his word choice, though it didn’t necessarily put Hermione’s mind at ease. The only thing she did was modestly smile at his compliment and then adopted a relaxed persona to get to the bottom of their meeting.</p>
<p>“Did you want to talk?” Hermione asked as she cocked her head to the side for a moment. She didn’t want to think of how the wedding was both beautiful and odd for her, and she didn’t want to think of any possibilities. Her only focus at this moment lied in the man sitting before her.</p>
<p>“I did. I uh, thought that you should know that I’m finally moving out of Blaise and Pansy’s flat,” Draco smirked. “I know they’re glad to see me go, even though they won’t admit it.”</p>
<p>“That’s wonderful news! Congratulations,” Hermione beamed. Though, she held onto her giddiness just a little bit longer when seeing Draco’s gaze shift to his hands. She wondered what else happened in their time apart, and hoped that there was some progress between him and his family. Or even with just his mother, at least. “Is there anything else you’d want to tell me?”</p>
<p>Draco sighed and looked up at her. He was neither pained nor upset, but pretty neutral to the remainder of what he encountered.</p>
<p>“I spoke with my mother. There wasn’t much resolved, but she seems a bit more…open with me since I made the first step,” Draco confessed. “I even told her that you were behind it all.”</p>
<p>Hermione’s cheeks reddened at this. The last time Hermione had ever thought about Narcissa Malfoy before they had started dating was six or seven years ago with the war on the cusp. Hermione had learned much about the three Black sisters from simple word-of-mouth and the times that Hermione, Ron, and Harry spent at 12 Grimmauld Place. There were three of them. Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa. At the thought of the eldest sister’s name, Hermione subconsciously placed a hand over her scar, but soon made peace with the memory. She knew how vile Bellatrix was, and she knew that Andromeda was disowned from her family for marrying a Muggle-born, but she hardly knew much about the youngest sister. The mother of the man she loved. Curiosity came over her at the thought of her name being mentioned while he attempted to reconnect with his mother, and so she decided to speak once more.</p>
<p>“What did she say?”</p>
<p>“I think she may understand the reason why I came. That I did it for you more than I did it for my own gain,” Hermione watched Draco struggled on the next words he planned to speak, and watched as he leaned forward. His cold hands reached out and gently held onto hers, and drew in a shaky breath just before the words came from him. “And in our absence I learned a lot about myself, and about life—particularly the type of life I want to live. I knew for a while now that I wanted to live this life with you, but it wasn’t until recently that I realized that I loved you.”</p>
<p>Hermione hitched a breath at his words, which contrasted with her steady beating heart. Tears began to well in her eyes, though she forced them away harshly. She didn’t want to take this moment away from him and what he had just said. The same words she had known of herself for a while now. Hermione hadn’t realized how silent she had gotten from his realization, and took note of the look Draco had on his face. He looked nervous, and uneasy at his confession.</p>
<p>“I love you, Hermione.” Draco nodded confidently, causing Hermione to smile. “And my family knows this. Not because they needed to know, but because they should. To know that I’m serious about you and that I want to make this work <em>with</em> you.” She looked back at him, giving his hand a small squeeze as a few tears began to fall.</p>
<p>“I love you too, Draco.”</p>
<p>Hermione loved saying it. The words were slick and easy in her mouth, and very easy to say. Not because it was in the moment, or because his name was edgy and different. It was easy to say because it was the truth. The honest thing to say, and boy did she love saying it. She watched closely as Draco exhaled, relaxing in his seat a bit at her words and chuckled to himself.</p>
<p>“I thought you were going to turn me down that first time.” He smiled.</p>
<p>“Why would I ever?” Hermione giggled.</p>
<p>“Because it wasn’t as romantic as it could’ve been, but it’s just what came out in the moment and…it’s true.”</p>
<p>“Well, it’s perfect because it came from you.”</p>
<p>Hermione eyed the man sitting across from her, something twinkling in his eyes as he stared back. This was the same person she saw years ago, but he was changed. Moved by something deep within him that Hermione was ecstatic to ignite. And yet, the same thing happened for her as well. A small knowing of some sort crept within her as she stared at the man. She knew she loved him. She knew that her life changed completely the day he set foot into her office with Astoria. But above all else, there was a knowing that Hermione had identified as something completely different. She knew, without fail, that Draco was the man she would spend the rest of her life with.</p>
<p>As she stared, listening to him talk and go into further detail about his new flat, Hermione found herself unwillingly zoning out from his words. This was unlike her. She never fell short on giving him her undivided attention and now, here she was, struggling to concentrate on the man she just professed her love for. Draco continued on, speaking on the strange yet attractive building he settled into and how the landlord was quite the character, Hermione’s eyes landed on a woman entering the small café with an infant in her arms.</p>
<p>Hermione’s heart began to race at the sight, and her eyes adjusted to the beauty of the small family coming inside. They were young, but still so prepared with a large carrying bag and the father struggling to disassemble the pram that they had the baby laying in. The mother, on the other hand, held the baby and a rather large shopping bag in just the other hand. Judging by the way they were both so disheveled and new to the physics of the once quiet atmosphere being splattered with a bit of their small, humorous commotion, Hermione figured they were new parents.</p>
<p>The couple searched the café for a seat, and Hermione watched their eyes trail to a seat in the back near where she and Draco were. Perhaps the only seat around with any additional room for all their items they had. Hermione slumped down in her seat a bit and turned to face Draco who was eyeing her oddly.</p>
<p>“You alright?” He asked, looking around for any source of threatened security to the woman sitting opposite him.</p>
<p>“Yes! Perfect, actually.” Hermione smiled softly, though the thoughts came rushing back. She didn’t want to even mention her illness at the wedding, for fear of startling Draco beyond repair. Then again, she and Draco never really discussed something like children or even their future until now. She didn’t want to rush things when the first time they had even uttered their ‘I love you’s’ was just minutes ago. No, she didn’t want to spoil this new high.</p>
<p>The couple took their seats nearby Hermione and Draco, causing him to look at how discombobulated they were. Hermione made sure to eye him carefully, trying to take in and understand what Draco might be thinking at a time like this, and relaxed when seeing a small smile form in the corner of his mouth. Hermione looked back at the couple, seeing the father now holding the small child who was sitting on his lap, grinning widely at Draco.</p>
<p>The sight was extraordinary, and noticeably the first time Hermione had ever seen Draco interact with a child before. She couldn’t help but stare, seeing how mesmerized the child was with him. The child then turned to her, the smile dimming slightly as his eyes rested on the witch. Hermione tried to pull a quick face to make the child giggle, but watched as his face changed. The child’s eyes became weary, and his bottom lip poked out, quivering a bit as he then began to sob.</p>
<p>Hermione quickly looked away from the child and at Draco who was briefly enjoying having gained the child’s satisfaction over her and grinned at his partner.</p>
<p>“That went well.” Draco teased.</p>
<p>“Shut up.” Hermione spoke with reddened cheeks as she tried her best to drown out the faint whimpers coming from the infant.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Draco casually looked back, a small smile growing on his face as soon the child stopped crying while his father began to bounce him on his lap. Draco grabbed the cup of tea that Hermione was drinking and took a small sip as he mulled over whether or not he should share the sort of information that he had with her. He watched her closely, seeing how defeated she was by the small cries of the child, and figured that perhaps he would lighten the mood a bit.</p>
<p>“You know, I’ve been seeing babies nearly everywhere I go.” Draco confessed.</p>
<p>Hermione looked up at him, intensely focused on the man as she peered at him.</p>
<p>“You have?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. It’s the strangest thing. I guess I’m the baby magnet. When I had gone to check out the flat, I had saw a couple with a baby, then on my way here, a little one crashed into me while attempting to ride a toy broom. And now here,” Draco smirked. “I think it might be a sign.”</p>
<p>Hermione froze once hearing his words, and tried her best to not seem too perturbed by this. The man across from her had a sly grin on his face, as though he knew those words triggered her in this way. But she would do her best to remain unchanged. She didn’t know what Draco was alluding to, and she didn’t understand why he seemed so pleased with himself as he stared at her. But it seemed like he knew something, as much as he also seemed like he didn’t know anything at all.</p>
<p>“What type of sign?”</p>
<p>Draco leaned forward on the table and shrugged slightly. He thought briefly for a moment and glanced back at the infant as he then focused fully on Hermione.</p>
<p>“Well, you know, maybe it can be seen as a new opportunity? Something like that,” Draco thought. “A rebirth if you will?”</p>
<p>Draco gently held onto Hermione’s hands, caressing them softly as he smiled at her. But still with his smile, every now and then he would glance over at the baby and give an even more charming one to the small person. It was admirable as much as it were peculiar. Had Draco been like this with children all along? Did she just not notice because they were always so busy being secretive about their relationship? Hermione didn’t know, but she knew certainly that it was mesmerizing to her to see the complexities of this man nearly get washed away by the presence of a child. And so, she found herself growing increasingly insecure at the possibilities that would soon come between them. She didn’t know how to mother or to be completely nurturing. She found it easy to baby Draco when he were sick because regardless of how much he moaned or whined, he was an adult who didn’t rely on her heavily when he was ill. He was still self-sufficient. Yet, now as a mother, it was a hard reality to accept that perhaps she wouldn’t have anyone to teach her how to mother a child. The thought, so brief and easily integrated into her mental, shocked her briefly. She wasn’t a mother. No, not yet. But the fact that she called herself such was awfully curious. And so, it didn’t necessarily sit well with the witch.</p>
<p>Soon after noticing the title she had subconsciously given herself, Hermione stood up from the table with such force, trying her best not to think of the fact that she had tossed herself into a pit of unfair thoughts targeted at herself. She tried her best to flash a genuine smile at Draco as he sat, and cocked her head to the side slightly.</p>
<p>“Wanna get out of here?” She asked coolly, trying to not let Draco in on how worried she was in that moment.</p>
<p>“Uh, sure,” Draco scrambled out of his seat, smiling back at her. “Where did you want to go?”</p>
<p>“Muggle London. I think I need a few things.”</p>
<p>The only way to release herself from these thoughts was to do the one thing she knew she should have done for a while now if she wanted to have full peace of mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>—-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>59…58…57</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione sat on the edge of her bathtub, her eyes focused on the elongated piece of plastic as she counted down the last minute needed. The witch found her leg bouncing again from the nerves, and tried her best to take deep breaths to slow her heart rate. In all her years of test taking at Hogwarts, she had never been nervous for her O.W.L.S or her N.E.W.T.S, but alas here she was, nervous about whether her pregnancy test will reflect one line or two.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>45…44…43…42…</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She tried to refocus her thoughts, thinking back on today’s short adventure, though it was nothing short of fulfillment. Well, at least for Draco, that is. Bringing Draco to the Muggle world was always a good time, despite their last attempt resulting in him telling her about his family situation. Still, coming to Muggle London this time around was for a purpose, rather than a field trip for the Pureblood wizard. Yet, despite her mind focusing on only one thing, Hermione took notice of how Draco was mesmerized by new technological advancements that he probably hadn’t seen the last time he was there. A game boy which took a child’s complete interest also struck Draco’s as they waited in line at the pharmacy. The young boy was kind enough to offer to let Draco play, though he didn’t accept. He did, however, watch the boy play diligently, and played close attention as the screen lit up with various colors. Hermione humoured herself by suggesting that it was like Draco had seen magic right before his eyes, just before they had left the store with a bag in her possession.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>25…24…23…</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione slowly pleaded with herself to not steal a look at the test, wanting to give it the right amount of time to populate the correct results. Now that she sat there, she wondered. Was she waiting for three minutes or for two? It felt like hours if she was being honest with herself, but she also realized she had lost track. And that stirred her the wrong way just as much as taking the test even did. She had never taken one of these before, and while she was fairly new to the painstakingly short yet somehow long waiting period, she wasn’t fully submerged in her nerves. Still, she was equally as glad to know that Draco was preoccupied in her living room, munching on some candy she had purchased from the drug store. The last thing she needed was for him to walk in on her like this. Granted, even though he wouldn’t have known what she were doing, Hermione still wanted her privacy for it all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>5…4…3…2…</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione forced herself to stand up with closed eyes, and gripped the test in her shaky hands. She peered one eye open for a moment, then another as she relaxed a bit when seeing one line on the stick. Hermione wasn’t sure what to feel. Happy because she wasn’t? Or a bit upset because she wasn’t? Was there a right way to feel about these sorts of things? Hermione frowned for a moment, feeling lighter but still carrying on this small sense of disappointment. What a strange way to feel. Still, Hermione figured that maybe these things happened for a reason. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to be a mother, or better yet, it just wasn’t her time. But then why had she felt so different lately? There were still so many things she hadn’t yet had answers to.</p>
<p>She laid the pregnancy test back on the kitchen sink and made her way to the door, closing it behind her. A sense of hyper awareness came over as she looked towards the living room, seeing Draco reading her copy of Witch Weekly and munching on some chocolates. He locked eyes with her from over the magazine and gave a small grin.</p>
<p>“You alright? Thought you might’ve fell in,” He spoke. It felt good having him in her flat again, and soon it would be even better seeing how his turned out. Despite the negative test result, she found other aspects of their relationship to look forward to.</p>
<p>Hermione chuckled at his teasing and shook her head, cuddling up beside him on the couch. Well, if she wasn’t pregnant, at least she had Draco back in her life. That was a gift all on its own. She allowed her eyes to close as she rested against him, feeling ease at each page turn he made.</p>
<p>“Any dinner ideas?” Hermione asked, sighing gently as she tucked herself closer into his body.</p>
<p>“Hmm, I actually just bypassed a page on recipes,” Draco spoke as he began flipping in the other direction. The wizard continued to flip past pages from medical advice, to advice columns, home décor ideas, and landed quickly on the cooking section. So quickly, in fact, that he unintentionally sliced his finger, resulting in a painful paper cut. “Ah!”</p>
<p>Hermione sat up quickly and looked at Draco, noticing the small amount of blood coming from his finger and smirked a bit at him. She knew that paper cuts hurt, but Draco was also quite the actor. She knew this to be true from their Hogwarts days. She recalled the time Slytherin and Gryffindor played against each other in Quidditch and he stayed in the hospital wing for what felt like hours simply because he felt light headed. And then that time when Hagrid carried him away after he was struck by a Hippogriff. So, it was nothing short of a surprise when seeing him grip his hand in pain, even if he were exaggerating just a smidge.</p>
<p>“Oh hush, I’ll get you a band-aid.” Hermione snickered as she made her way back to the bathroom.</p>
<p>“Hurry! I think I may faint!” Draco called out playfully.</p>
<p>“I’ll take as long as I need to.” Hermione called back out with a smile. Stepping into her bathroom, Hermione had nearly forgotten the nerve-wracking 2 minutes that she had endured once she had taken the pregnancy test, but it returned to her as she stepped back inside. Hermione looked into her small corner cabinet on the wall, grabbing a box of band-aids for Draco and turned to take one final look at the pregnancy test she had left on the sink. However, on the edge of the sink was nothing. Just the sink itself, white and clean. Hermione looked down on the floor, wondering if it had fallen, though it hadn’t. Her brows furrowed from the peculiarity of the missing instrument, and walked over to the sink.</p>
<p>There, staring back up at her, was the pregnancy test laying in her sink, different from when she had last seen it. Hermione dropped the box of bandaids quickly and picked up the hard plastic. One bold, darker line, familiar to the witch was now accompanied by a new faint but still noticeable line directly beside it. Hermione didn’t even have to read the legend to understand what this meant. With legs that now felt as though they were made of jelly, Hermione gripped onto the side of the sink as she struggled to tear her eyes from the test.</p>
<p>Again, the same mix of uncertainty and giddiness overwhelmed her, pulling her in two very different directions, but mostly bringing her to sheer happiness in the end.</p>
<p>“Did you find what you were looking for?” Draco called out from the living room. Hearing his voice sent flutters into Hermione’s stomach, and she held it happily. She bent down to pick up the box of bandaids and tucked the pregnancy test into her back pocket. Hermione certainly found what she was looking for, and much more.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>—Hey hey! Back with another chapter! Hope this one is a good one for you, because it was definitely fun to write. Seems as though things are building up for our duo. I’m thinking I may have about 4 or 5 more chapters to go before I’m done with this fic, and before I move on to another Dramione fan fiction that I’m outlining right now!! Either way, enjoy my darlings! Thanks for all your support, as per usual! Your kudos, likes, and comments never go unnoticed. I appreciate it all! Xx—</p>
<p>Much love and major shoutout to one of my constant supporters!/ Je montre de l’amour a l’un de mes plus grands supporters: @bakasid!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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